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BV  5080  .J7713  1909 
John  of  the  Cross,  1542-159: 
A  spiritual  canticle  of  the 
soul  and  the  bridegroom 


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THE    WORKS    OF 
ST.    JOHN    OF    THE    CROSS 


NIHIL    OBSTAT 

Henricus  S.  Bowden 

Censor  Depntatus. 

IMPRIMATUR 

Edmd.  Canonicus  Surmont 

Vicarius  Generalis. 

Westmonasterii 

Die  28  Junii  1909. 


Jvxav     A^-  .'        APiU7'1916 

A  SPIRITUAL  CANTIClP"^ 
OF  THE  SOUL 

AND 

THE  BRIDEGROOM  CHRIST 

BY 

ST.    JOHN   OF   THE   CROSS 

TRANSLATED  BY 

DAVID    LEWIS 

WITH   CORRECTIONS  AND   AN    INTRODUCTION 
BY 

BENEDICT    ZIMMERMAN,    O.C.D. 

Prior  of  St.  Luke's,    Wincanton 


New  York,  Cincinnati,  Chicago 

BENZIGER    BROTHERS 

PRINTERS  TO   THE   HOLY    APOSTOLIC   SEE 
1909 


Printed  and  Published  ey  Thomas  Baker, 
72,   Newman  Street,   London,  W.      July,    1909. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION,  BY  Rev.  Benedict  Zimmerman,  O. CD.    ..  xi 


SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE  OF  THE  SOUL  AND 
THE  BRIDEGROOM  CHRIST 

PS.GB 

Prologue  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .  .  .  .  I 

Song  of  the  Soul  and  the  Bridegroom         .  .  .  .  . .  .  5 

Argument         ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  13 

EXPLANATION    OF    THE    STANZAS 

Note '4 

STANZA    I 

God  essentially  hidden.     The  Only-begotten  Son.       The  hidden 

treasure.     The  peaceful  pain  of  hope  . .  .  .  .  1 5 

STANZA    II 
Messengers  of  the  wounded  soul.     The  message  of  love  . .  .  32 

STANZA    III 

The  search  after  God  commenced.  Flowers  by  the  roadside. 

Meeting  the  enemy         .  .  .  .  .  .  • .  •  •  3^ 

STANZA    IV 
The  Universe  questioned  about  God  .  .  . .  .  -  •         4^ 

STANZA    V 

Answer  of  the  Creatures        . .  . .  ■  •  •  •  •         S® 

Note •  ■  52 

v 


VI  CONTENTS 

STANZA    VI 

PAGE 

The  Creature  excites  love  for  the  Creator  . .  . .  . .  53 


STANZA    VII 

God    the    desired    message     and     messenger.      Testimony    of 

rational  creatures  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .  .  .  57 


STANZA    VIII 

Death  in  the  quiver  of  life    .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .  . .         62 

Note      .  .•  . .  .  .  . .  .  .  . .  . .  . .  . .  65 

STANZA    IX 

Complaint  of  the  wounded  soul.     Love  the  reward  of  love         .  .  66 

Note      . .  . .  . .  .  .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  70 

STANZA    X 

The  soul  satisfied  by  God  alone.    The  uncreated  light    . .          .  .  72 

Note 75 

STANZA    XI 

The  soul  asks  to  see  God  and  die.      ]\Ian  cannot  see  God  and  live. 

Death  the  friend.     The  cure  of  imperfect  love.         .  .  .  .  76 

Note      ..  86 

STANZA    XII 

The  crystal  fount  of  faith  reflects  the  face  of  God.      Love  begets 

likeness  and  union  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  87 

Note 94 

STANZA    XIII 

Dark  approach  to  Divine  Light.      Glance  of  the  Divine  eyes. 

Voice  of  the  Beloved       .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  -  95 

Note 104 

STANZA    XIV 

Song  of  the  Bride-soul.  God  the  undiscovered  country.  His 
voice  upon  the  waters.  The  gentle  air  and  the  night 
vision        . .  .  .  . .  •  .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .        105 


CONTENTS  vii 


STANZA    XV 


Note 


STANZA    XVIII 


STANZA    XIX 


Note 


STANZA    XX 


PAGE 


Calm   morning   twilight.      Universal   hymn   of  praise   to   God. 

Spiritual  banquet  of  love  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..        121 

Note 128 


STANZA    XVI 

Foxes  in  the  vineyard.      The  nosegay  of  roses.     Solitude  of  the 

heart         . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .        i^q 

Note 136 

STANZA    XVII 

The  suffering  of  love.     North  and  south  winds.      Breath  of  the 

sweet-smelling  flowers    ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..        137 


144 


The  soul  rebukes  the  rebellious  motions  of  the  flesh.     The  royal 

captivein  prison.     Loiterers  at  the  gate  of  the  city  . ,        146 

Note 


149 


Sunlight  on  the  mountams.      The  soul  asks  for  purely  spiritual 

communication  with  God  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..        i^i 


154 


The  Bridegroom  guards  his  bride.       The  soul  restored  to  justice 

by  Christ.     God  a  joy  for  ever  .  .  . .  . .  . .        156 

STANZA    XXI 
The  reign  of  everlasting  peace         . .  . .  . .  . ,  . .        167 

Note i6g 

■■T 

STANZA    XXII 

Rejoicing  of  the  Good  Shepherd  over  His  recovered  sheep.     From 

penance  to  perfection.     The  spiritual  marriage         ..  ..        170 

Note      ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ,.  ,.        177 


Viii  CONTENTS 


STANZA    XXIII 


PAGE 


The  trees  of  Paradise  and  of  Calvary.      The  Cross  our  second 

Mother  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  -  ■  .  ■  •  •  •        i?^ 

Note i8i 


STANZA    XXIV 

Bliss  of  the  state  of  perfect  union  with  God.      Perfume  shed  by 

Divine  flowers.     Virtues  a  crown  and  defence  ..  ..        182 

Note 190 


STANZA   XXV 

The  soul  gives  thanks  for  graces  bestowed  on  others.  Running 
in  the  way  of  life.  New  and  old  wine.  The  old  friend  of 
God  190 

Note 198 


STANZA    XXVI 

Happy  state  of  the  soul  in  Divine  love.  Perfect  fear,  perfect 
love.  We  may  know  little  and  love  much.  Wisdom  and 
folly.     The  shepherd  loses  his  flock     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .        200 

Note 211 


STANZA    XXVII 

The  communion  of  God  and  the  soul  in  love.      Mutual  and  un- 
reserved surrender.     Perfect  fulfilment  of  the  law  of  love   ..        213 

Note      .  .  .  .  . .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  217 


STANZA    XXVIII 

The  soul  centred  on  love,  its  sole  occupation.  God,  and  nothing 

else            . .          . .          . .          . .          . .  . .          . .          . .       218 

Note      .  .          . .          .  .          . .          .  .          . .  .  .          .  .          .  .        222 


STANZA    XXIX 

Love  highest  in  importance  and  profit.        Loss  and  gain  of  the 

soul.     The  better  part.     Mary  and  Martha   . .  . .  .  .        225 

Note      . .  . .  . .  . .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .  . .        230 


CONTENTS  ix 


STANZA    XXX 

PACE 

First  flowers  of  spring  sweetest.  The  delight  of  the  bride-soul 
and  Christ  in  the  possession  of  the  virtues  and  gifts  of  each 
other.  Christ  crowned  by  His  Saints.  Beauty  and  strength 
of  the  perfect  soul  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .        231 

Note 238 


STANZA    XXXI 

God  captive  to  pure  strong  love.      The  thread  of  Love  binding 

together  God  and  the  soul.     Power  of  trust  in  God   ..  ..        240 


Note 


STANZA    XXXII 


Note 


STANZA    XXXIII 


Note 


Note 


244 


Grace  the  cause  of  merit.     The  soul  refers  all  to  God,  and  gives 

thanks  to  Him  for  His  mercy  in  looking  lovingly  upon  her  .  .        245 


250 


The  soul  prays  for  the  continuance  of  the  Divine  spiritual  union. 

The  soul's  beauty  God's  gift.     God  honours  His  own  work  .  .        252 


257 


STANZA    XXXIV 

The  olive  branch  of  peace                  .  .                                                .  .  258 

Note 261 

STANZA    XXXV 

The  Dove's  nest          . .          .  .          . .          .  .          . .          . .          .  .  262 

Note 266 


STANZA    XXXVI 

The  soul  ripe  for  heaven.     Beauty  of  God  in  the  soul.      Infinite 

depths  of  Divine  truths  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .        268 


275 


CONTENTS 


STANZA    XXXVII 


PAGE 


To  know  God  is  eternal  life.     Truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.      New  wine 

of  the  pomegranates       . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .        276 

Note      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  .  .  .  .  . .        282 


STANZA    XXXVIII 
Love  for  love.     Day  of  God's  eternity.     Victory  and  Crown      .  .        283 
Note      . .  .  .  . .  . .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .  . .        291 

STANZA    XXXIX 

Breath  of  eternal  life.     The  nightingale's  song.      The  grove  and 

its  beauty.     Blissful  and  consuming  fire  of  God's  love        .  .        291 

STANZA    XL 

Going  up  by  the  desert  of  death.      Encampment  by  the  waters 

of  Life 303 

Index  to  passages  from  Holy  Scripture      .  .  .  .  . .  . .        308 

General  Index  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .       315 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  present  volume  of  the  works  of  St.  John 
of  the  Cross  contains  the  explanation  of 
the  '  Spiritual  Canticle  of  the  Soul  and  the 
Bridegroom  Christ.'     The  two  earlier  works,  the 

*  Ascent  of  Mount  Carmel  '  and  the  '  Dark  Night 
of  the  Soul '  dealt  with  the  cleansing  of  the  soul, 
the  unremittant  war  against  even  the  smallest 
imperfections  standing  in  the  wa}^  of  union  with 
God  ;  imperfections  which  must  be  removed, 
partly  by  strict  self-discipline,  partly  by  the 
direct  intervention  of  God,  Who,  searching  '  the 
reins  and  hearts  '  by  means  of  heavy  interior  and 
exterior  trials,  purges  away  whatever  is  dis- 
pleasing to  Him.  Although  some  stanzas  refer 
to  this  preliminary  state,  the  chief  object  of  the 

*  Spiritual  Canticle  '  is  to  picture  under  the 
Biblical  simile  of  Espousals  and  Matrimony  the 
blessedness  of  a  soul  that  has  arrived  at  union 
with  God. 

The   Canticle   was   composed   during   the   long 


Xll  INTRODUCTION 

imprisonment  St.  John  underwent  at  Toledo  from 
the  beginning  of  December  1577  till  the  middle 
of  August  of  the  following  year.  Being  one  of 
the  principal  supporters  of  the  Reform  of  St. 
Teresa,  he  was  also  one  of  the  victims  of  the  war 
waged  against  her  work  by  the  Superiors  of  the 
old  branch  of  the  Order.  St.  John's  prison  was 
a  narrow,  stifling  cell,  with  no  window,  but  only 
a  small  loophole  through  which  a  ray  of  light 
entered  for  a  short  time  of  the  day,  just  long 
enough  to  enable  him  to  say  his  office,  but  affording 
little  facility  for  reading  or  writing.  However, 
St.  John  stood  in  no  need  of  books.  Having  for 
many  years  meditated  on  every  word  of  Holy 
Scripture,  the  Word  of  God  was  deeply  written 
in  his  heart,  supplying  abundant  food  for  con- 
versation with  God  during  the  whole  period  of 
his  imprisonment.  From  time  to  time  he  poured 
forth  his  soul  in  poetry  ;  afterwards  he  com- 
municated his  verses  to  friends. 

One  of  these  poetical  works,  the  fruit  of  his 
imprisonment,  was  the  *  Spiritual  Canticle,' 
which,  as  the  reader  will  notice,  is  an  abridged 
paraphrase  of  the  Canticle  of  Canticles,  the  Song 
of  Solomon,  wherein  under  the  image  of  pas- 
sionate love  are  described  the  mystical  sufferings 
and  longings  of  a  soul  enamoured  with  God. 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

From  the  earliest  times  the  Fathers  and  Doctors 
of  the  Church  had  recognised  the  mystical  cha- 
racter of  the  Canticle,  and  the  Church  had  largely 
utilised  it  in  her  liturgy.  But  as  there  is  nothing 
so  holy  but  that  it  may  be  abused,  the  Canticle, 
almost  more  than  any  other  portion  of  Holy 
Scripture,  had  been  misinterpreted  by  a  false 
Mysticism,  such  as  was  rampant  in  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  It  had  come  to  pass, 
said  the  learned  and  saintly  Augustinian,  Fray 
Luis  de  Leon,  that  that  which  was  given  as  a 
medicine  was  turned  into  poison,*  so  that  the 
Ecclesiastical  authority,  by  the  Index  of  1559, 
forbade  the  circulation  of  the  Bible  or  parts  of 
the  Bible  in  any  but  the  original  languages, 
Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin  ;  and  no  one  knew 
better  than  Luis  de  Leon  himself  how  rigorously 
these  rules  were  enforced,  for  he  had  to  expiate 
by  nearly  five  years'  imprisonment  the  audacity 
of  having  translated  into  Castilian  the  Canticle 
of  Canticles.  I 

Again,  one  of  the  confessors  of  St.  Teresa,  com- 
monly thought  to  have  been  the  Dominican,  Fray 

*  '  Los  nombres  de  Cristo. '     Introduction. 

t  This  exceptionally  severe  legislation,  justified  by  the  dangers  of 
the  time,  only  held  good  for  Spain  and  the  Spanish  colonies,  and  has 
long  since  been  revised.  It  did  not  include  the  Epistles  and  Gospels. 
Psalms,  Passion,  and  other  parts  of  the  daily  service. 


XIV  INTRODUCTION 

Diego  de  Yanguas,  on  learning  that  the  Saint  had 
written  a  book  on  the  Canticle,  ordered  her  to 
throw  it  into  the  fire,  so  that  we  now  only  possess 
a  few  fragments  of  her  work,  which,  unknown  to 
St.  Teresa,  had  been  copied  by  a  nun. 

It  will  now  be  understood  that  St.  John's 
poetical  paraphrase  of  the  Canticle  must  have 
been  welcome  to  many  contemplative  souls  who 
desired  to  kindle  their  devotion  with  the  words  of 
Solomon,  but  were  unable  to  read  them  in  Latin. 
Yet  the  text  alone,  without  explanation,  would 
have  helped  them  little  ;  and  as  no  one  was  better 
qualified  than  the  author  to  throw  light  on  the 
mysteries  hidden  under  oriental  imagery,  the 
Venerable  Ann  of  Jesus,  Prioress  of  the  Carmelite 
convent  at  Granada,  requested  St.  John  to  write 
a  commentary  on  his  verses.*  He  at  first  excused 
himself,  saying  that  he  was  no  longer  in  that 
state  of  spiritual  exuberance  in  which  he  had  been 
when  composing  the  Canticle,  and  that  there  only 

*  Ann  de  Lobera,  born  at  Medina  del  Campo,  November  25,  1545, 
was  a  deaf-mute  until  her  eighth  year.  When  she  applied  for  ad- 
mission to  the  Carmelite  convent  at  Avila  St.  Teresa  promised  to 
receive  her  not  so  much  as  a  novice,  but  as  her  companion  and  future 
successor  ;  she  took  the  habit  August  i,  1570,  and  made  her  pro- 
fession at  Salamanca,  October  21,  1571.  She  became  the  first  prioress 
of  Veas,  and  was  entrusted  by  St.  Teresa  with  the  foundation  of  Granada 
(January  1582),  where  she  found  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  who  was  prior 
of  the  convent  of  The  Martyrs  (well  known  to  visitors  of  the  Alhambra 
although  no  longer  a  convent).     St.  John  not  only  became  the  director 


INTRODUCTION  XV 

remained  to  him  a  confused  recollection  of  the 
wonderful  operations  of  Divine  grace  during  the 
period  of  his  imprisonment.  Ann  of  Jesus  was 
not  satisfied  with  this  answer  ;  she  not  only  knew 
that  St.  John  had  lost  nothing  of  his  fervour, 
though  he  might  no  longer  experience  the  same 
feelings,  but  she  remembered  what  had  happened 
to  St.  Teresa  under  similar  circumstances,  and 
believed  the  same  thing  might  happen  to  St.  John. 
When  St.  Teresa  was  obliged  to  write  on  some 
mystical  phenomena,  the  nature  of  which  she  did 
not  fully  understand,  or  whose  effect  she  had 
forgotten,  God  granted  her  unexpectedly  a  repe- 
tition of  her  former  experiences  so  as  to  enable 
her  to  fully  study  the  matter  and  report  on  it.* 
Venerable  Ann  of  Jesus  felt  sure  that  if  St.  John 
undertook  to  write  an  explanation  of  the  Canticle 
he  would  soon  find  himself  in  the  same  mental 
attitude  as  when  he  composed  it. 

St.  John  at  last  consented,  and  wrote  the  work 

and  confessor  of  the  convent  of  nuns,  but  remained  the  most  faithful 
helper  and  the  staunchest  friend  of  Mother  Ann  throughout  the  heavy 
trials  which  marred  many  years  of  her  life.  In  1604  she  went  to  Paris 
to  found  the  first  convent  of  her  Order  in  France,  and  in  1607  she  pro- 
ceeded to  Brussels,  where  she  remained  until  her  death,  March  4, 
1621.  The  heroic  nature  of  her  virtues  having  been  acknowledged, 
she  was  declared  '  Venerable  '  in  1878,  and  it  is  hoped  that  she  will 
soon  be  beatified. 

*  See  '  Life  of  St.   Teresa  '  :  ed.  Baker  (London,    1904),  ch.   xiv.  12, 
xvi.  2,  xviii.  10. 


XVI  INTRODUCTION 

now  before  us.  The  following  letter,  which  has 
lately  come  to  light,  gives  some  valuable  in- 
formation of  its  composition.  The  writer,  Mag- 
dalen of  the  Holy  Ghost,  nun  of  Veas,  where  she 
was  professed  on  August  6,  1577,  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  Saint. 

'  When  the  holy  father  escaped  from  prison, 
he  took  with  him  a  book  of  poetry  he  had  written 
while  there,  containing  the  verses  commencing 
"  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,"  and  those 
others  :  "I  know  the  fountain  well  which  flows 
and  runs,  though  it  be  night,"  and  the  canticle, 
"  Where  hast  thou  hidden  thyself  ?  "  as  far  as 
"O  nymphs  of  Judea"  (stanza  XVIIL).  The  re- 
maining verses  he  composed  later  on  while  rector 
of  the  college  of  Baeza  (1579-81),  while  some  of 
the  explanations  were  written  at  Veas  at  the 
request  of  the  nuns,  and  others  at  Granada.  The 
Saint  wrote  this  book  in  prison  and  afterwards 
left  it  at  Veas,  where  it  was  handed  to  me  to  make 
some  copies  of  it.  Later  on  it  was  taken  away 
from  my  cell,  and  I  never  knew  who  took  it.  I 
was  much  struck  with  the  vividness  and  the 
beauty  and  subtlety  of  the  words.  One  day  I 
asked  the  Saint  whether  God  had  given  him  these 
words  which  so  admirably  explain  those  mysteries, 
and  he  answered  :    "  Child,  sometimes  God  gave 


INTRODUCTION  XVll 

them  to  me,  and  at  other  times  I  sought  them 
myself."  *  * 

The  autograph  of  St.  John's  work  which  is  pre- 
served at  Jaen  bears  the  following  title  : 

'  Explanation  of  Stanzas  treating  of  the 
exercise  of  love  between  the  soul  and  Jesus 
Christ  its  Spouse,  dealing  with  and  commenting 
on  certain  points  and  effects  of  prayer  ;  written 
at  the  request  of  Mother  Ann  of  Jesus,  prioress 
of  the  Discalced  Carmelite  nuns  of  St.  Joseph's 
convent,  Granada,  1584.' 

As  might  be  expected,  the  author  dedicated  the 
book  to  Ann  of  Jesus,  at  whose  request  he  had 
written  it.  Thus,  he  began  his  Prologue  with 
the  following  words  :  *  Inasmuch  as  this  canticle. 
Reverend  Mother  {Religiosa  Madre),  seems  to  have 
been  written,'  etc.  A  little  further  on  he  said  : 
*  The  stanzas  that  follow,  having  been  written 
under  the  influence  of  that  love  which  proceeds 
from  the  overflowing  mystical  intelligence,  can- 
not be  fully  explained.  Indeed,  I  do  not  purpose 
any  such  thing,  for  my  sole  purpose  is  to  throw 
some  general  light  over  them,  since  Your  Reverence 
has  asked  me  to  do  so,  and  since  this,  in  my  opinion 
too,  is  the  better  course.'     And  again  :    *  I  shall, 

*  '  Manuel   Serrano  y  Sanz,'  Apuntos  para  una  Biblioteca  de  Escri- 
tores  espanoles.     (1903,  p.  399.) 

b 


XVlll  INTRODUCTION 

however,  pass  over  the  more  ordinary  (effects  of 
prayer),  and  treat  briefly  of  the  more  extra- 
ordinary to  which  they  are  subject  who,  by  the 
mercy  of  God,  have  advanced  beyond  the  state 
of  beginners.  This  I  do  for  two  reasons  :  the  first 
is  that  much  is  aheady  written  concerning  be- 
ginners ;  and  the  second  is  that  I  am  addressing 
myself  to  Your  Reverence  at  your  own  bidding  ;  for 
you  have  received  from  Our  Lord  the  grace  of 
being  led  on  from  the  elementary  state  and  led 
inwards  to  the  bosom  of  His  divine  love.'  He 
continues  thus  :  '  I  therefore  trust,  though  I  may 
discuss  some  points  of  scholastic  theology  relating 
to  the  interior  commerce  of  the  soul  with  God,  that 
I  am  not  using  such  language  altogether  in  vain, 
and  that  it  will  be  found  profitable  for  pure  spiritua- 
lity. For  though  Your  Reverence  is  ignorant  of 
scholastic  theology,  you  are  by  no  means  ignorant 
of  mystical  theology,  the  science  of  love,  etc' 

From  these  passages  it  appears  quite  clearly 
that  the  Saint  wrote  the  book  for  Venerable  Ann 
of  Jesus  and  the  nuns  of  her  convent.  With  the 
exception  of  an  edition  published  at  Brussels  in 
1627,  these  personal  allusions  have  disappeared 
from  both  the  Spanish  text  and  the  translations,* 

*  Cf.   Berthold-Ignace  de  Sainte  Anne,  '  Vie  de  la  Mere  Anne  de 
Jesus'  (Malines,  1876),  I.  343  sqq. 


INTRODUCTION  XIX 

nor  are  they  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Lewis's  version. 
There  cannot  be  the  least  doubt  that  they  repre- 
sent St.  John's  own  intention,  for  they  are  to  be 
found  in  his  original  manuscript.  This,  con- 
taining, in  several  parts,  besides  the  Explanation 
of  the  Spiritual  Canticle,  various  poems  by  the 
Saint,  was  given  by  him  to  Ann  of  Jesus,  who  in 
her  turn  committed  it  to  the  care  of  one  of  her 
nuns,  Isabelle  of  the  Incarnation,  who  took  it 
with  her  to  Baeza,  where  she  remained  eleven 
years,  and  afterwards  to  Jaen,  where  she  founded 
a  convent  of  which  she  became  the  first  prioress. 
She  there  caused  the  precious  manuscript  to  be 
bound  in  red  velvet  with  silver  clasps  and  gilt 
edges.  It  still  was  there  in  1876,  and,  for  aught 
we  know,  remains  to  the  present  day  in  the  keep- 
ing of  the  said  convent.  It  is  a  pity  that  no 
photographic  edition  of  the  writings  of  St.  John 
(so  far  as  the  originals  are  preserved)  has  yet 
been  attempted,  for  there  is  need  for  a  critical 
edition  of  his  works. 

The  following  is  the  division  of  the  work  : 
Stanzas  I.  to  IV.  are  introductory  ;  V.  to  XII. 
refer  to  the  contemplative  life  in  its  earlier  stages  ; 
XIII.  to  XXL,  dealing  with  what  the  Saint  calls 
the  Espousals,  appertain  to  the  Unitive  way, 
where  the  soul  is  frequently^  but  not  habitually, 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

admitted  to  a  transient  union  with  God  ;  and 
XXII.  to  the  end  describe  what  he  calls  Matri- 
mony, the  highest  perfection  a  soul  can  attain 
this  side  of  the  grave.  The  reader  will  find  an 
epitome  of  the  whole  system  of  mystical  theology 
in  the  explanation  of  Stanza  XXVI. 

This  work  differs  in  many  respects  from  the 
'  Ascent  '  and  the  '  Dark  Night.'  Whereas 
these  are  strictly  systematic,  proceeding  on  the 
line  of  relentless  logic,  the  '  Spiritual  Canticle/ 
as  a  poetical  work  ought  to  do,  soars  high  above 
the  divisions  and  distinctions  of  the  scholastic 
method.  With  a  boldness  akin  to  that  of  his 
Patron  Saint,  the  Evangelist,  St.  John  rises  to  the 
highest  heights,  touching  on  a  subject  that  should 
only  be  handled  by  a  Saint,  and  which  the  reader, 
were  he  a  Saint  himself,  will  do  well  to  treat 
cautiously  :  the  partaking  by  the  human  soul  of 
the  Divine  Nature,  or,  as  St.  John  calls  it,  the 
Deification  of  the  soul  (Stanza  XXVI.  sqq). 
These  are  regions  where  the  ordinary  mind 
threatens  to  turn  ;  but  St.  John,  with  the  know- 
ledge of  what  he  himself  had  experienced,  not 
once  but  many  times,  what  he  had  observed  in 
others,  and  what,  above  all,  he  had  read  of  in 
Holy  Scripture,  does  not  shrink  from  hfting  the 
veil  more  completely  than  probably  any  Cathohc 


INTRODUCTION  XXI 

writer  on  mystical  theology  has  done.  To  pass 
in  silence  the  last  wonders  of  God's  love  for  fear 
of  being  misunderstood,  would  have  been  tanta- 
mount to  ignoring  the  very  end  for  which  souls 
are  led  along  the  way  of  perfection  ;  to  reveal 
these  mysteries  in  human  language,  and  say  all 
that  can  be  said  with  not  a  word  too  much,  not 
an  uncertain  or  misleading  line  in  the  picture : 
this  could  only  have  been  accomplished  by  one 
whom  the  Church  has  already  declared  to  have 
been  taught  by  God  Himself  (divinitus  instrudus), 
and  whose  books  She  tells  us  are  filled  with 
heavenly  wisdom  (coelesti  sapientia  refertos).  It 
is  hoped  that  sooner  or  later  She  will  proclaim  him 
(what  many  grave  authorities  think  him  to  be) 
a  Doctor  of  the  Church,  namely,  the  Doctor  of 
Mystical  theology.* 

As  has  already  been  noticed  in  the  Introduction 
to  the  *  Ascent,'  the  whole  of  the  teaching  of 
St.  John  is  directly  derived  from  Holy  Scripture 
and  from  the  psychological  principles  of  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas.  There  is  no  trace  to  be  found 
of  an  influence  of  the  Mystics  of  the  Middle  Age, 
with  whose  writings  St.  John  does  not  appear  to 
have    been    acquainted.      But    throughout    this 

*  On  this  subject  see  Fray  Eulogio  de  San  Jose,  '  Doctorado  de  Santa 
Teresa  de  Jesus  y  de  San  Juan  de  la  Cruz.'     Cordoba,  1896. 


XXll  INTRODUCTION 

treatise  there  are  many  obvious  allusions  to  the 
writings  of  St.  Teresa^  nor  will  the  reader  fail  to 
notice  the  encouraging  remark  about  the  pub- 
lication of  her  works  (p.  loo).  The  fact  is  that 
the  same  Venerable  Ann  of  Jesus  who  was  respon- 
sible for  the  composition  of  St.  John's  treatise 
was  at  the  same  time  making  preparations  for  the 
edition  of  St.  Teresa's  works  which  a  few  years 
later  appeared  at  Salamanca  under  the  editorship 
of  Fray  Luis  de  Leon,  already  mentioned. 

Those  of  his  readers  who  have  been  struck  with, 
not  to  say  frightened  by,  the  exactions  of  St.  John 
in  the  *  Ascent '  and  the  '  Dark  Night,'  where 
he  demands  complete  renunciation  of  every  kind 
of  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  however  legitimate 
in  themselves,  and  an  entire  mortification  of  the 
senses  as  well  as  the  faculties  and  powers  of  the 
soul,  and  who  have  been  wondering  at  his  self- 
abnegation  which  caused  him  not  only  to  accept, 
but  even  to  court  contempt,  will  find  here  the  clue 
to  this  almost  inhuman  attitude.  In  his  response 
to  the  question  of  Our  Lord,  '  What  shall  I  give 
thee  for  all  thou  hast  done  and  suffered  for  Me  ?  ' 
*  Lord,  to  suffer  and  be  despised  for  Thee  ' — he 
was  not  animated  by  grim  misanthropy  or  stoic 
indifference,  but  he  had  learned  that  in  propor- 
tion as  the  human  heart  is  emptied  of  Self,  after 


INTRODUCTION  XXlll 


having  been  emptied  of  all  created  things,  it  is 
open  to  the  influx  of  Divine  grace.  This  he  fully 
proves  in  the  '  Spiritual  Canticle.'  To  be  made 
'  partaker  of  the  Divine  Nature/  as  St.  Peter 
says,  human  nature  must  undergo  a  radical  trans- 
formation. Those  who  earnestly  study  the  teach- 
ing of  St.  John  in  his  earlier  treatises  and  en- 
deavour to  put  his  recommendations  into  practice, 
will  see  in  this  and  the  next  volume  an  unexpected 
perspective  opening  before  their  eyes,  and  they 
will  begin  to  understand  how  it  is  that  the  suffer- 
ings of  this  time — whether  voluntary  or  involun- 
tary— are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
glory  to  come  that  shall  be  revealed  in  us. 

Mr.  Lewis's  masterly  translation  of  the  works  of 
St.  John  of  the  Cross  appeared  in  1864  under  the 
auspices  of  Cardinal  Wiseman.  In  the  second 
edition,  of  1889,  he  made  numerous  changes,  with- 
out, however,  leaving  a  record  of  the  principles 
that  guided  him.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  revised 
edition  is  terser  than  the  first,  but  just  as  often 
the  old  one  seems  clearer.  It  is  more  difficult  to 
understand  the  reasons  that  led  him  to  alter  very 
extensively  the  text  of  quotations  from  Holy 
Scripture.  In  the  first  edition  he  had  nearly 
always  strictly  adhered  to  the  Douay  version, 
which  is  the  one  in  official  use  in  the  Catholic 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

Church  in  EngHsh-speaking  countries.  It  may 
not  always  be  as  perfect  as  one  would  wish  it  to 
be,  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  whole- 
sale alteration  in  Mr.  Lewis's  second  edition  is,  to 
say  the  least,  puzzling.  Even  the  Stanzas  have 
undergone  many  changes  in  the  second  edition, 
and  it  will  be  noticed  that  there  are  some  variants 
in  their  text  as  set  forth  at  the  beginning  of  the 
book,  and  as  repeated  at  the  heading  of  each 
chapter. 

The  present  edition,  allowing  for  some  slight 
corrections,  is  a  reprint  of  that  of  1889. 

BENEDICT  ZIMMERMAN,  PRIOR,  O.C.D. 


St.  Luke's,  Wincanton,  Somerset, 
Feast  of  St.  Simon  Stock, 
May  16,  1909. 


A  SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE  OF  THE  SOUL 
AND  THE  BRIDEGROOM  CHRIST* 

PROLOGUE 

Inasmuch  as  this  canticle  seems  to  have  been  written 
with  some  fervour  of  love  of  God,  whose  wisdom  and 
love  are,  as  is  said  in  the  book  of  Wisdom, f  so  vast  that 
they  reach  '  from  end  unto  end,'  and  as  the  soul,  taught 
and  moved  by  Him,  manifests  the  same  abundance  and 
strength  in  the  words  it  uses,  I  do  not  purpose  here  to 
set  forth  all  that  greatness  and  fulness  the  spirit  of  love, 
which  is  fruitful,  embodies  in  it.  Yea,  rather  it  would 
be  foolishness  to  think  that  the  language  of  love  and  the 
mystical  intelligence — and  that  is  what  these  stanzas 
are — can  be  at  all  explained  in  words  of  any  kind,  for  the 
Spirit  of  our  Lord  who  helps  our  weakness — as  St.  Paul 
saith  J — dwelling    in    us    makes    petitions    for    us    with 

*  [This  canticle  was  made  by  the  Saint  when  he  was  in  the  prison 
of  the  Mitigation,  in  Toledo.  It  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Venerable 
Anne  of  Jesus,  at  whose  request  he  wrote  the  following  commentary  on 
it,  and  addressed  it  to  her.] 

f  Wisdom  viii.   i  J  Rom.  viii.  26. 

I 


2  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 

groanings  unutterable  for  that  which  we  cannot  well 
understand  or  grasp  so  as  to  be  able  to  make  it  known. 
'  The  Spirit  helpeth  our  infirmity  .  .  .  the  Spirit  Himself 
requesteth  for  us  with  groanings  unspeakable.'  For  who 
can  describe  that  which  He  shows  to  loving  souls  in 
whom  He  dwells  ?  Who  can  set  forth  in  words  that 
which  He  makes  them  feel  ?  and,  lastly,  who  can  explain 
that  for  which  they  long  ? 

2.  Assuredly  no  one  can  do  it  ;  not  even  they  them- 
selves who  experience  it.  That  is  the  reason  why  they 
use  figures  of  special  comparisons  and  similitudes  ;  they 
hide  somewhat  of  that  which  they  feel  and  in  the 
abundance  of  the  Spirit  utter  secret  mysteries  rather 
than  express  themselves  in  clear  words. 

3.  And  if  these  similitudes  be  not  received  in  the 
simplicity  of  a  loving  mind,  and  in  the  sense  in  which 
they  are  uttered,  they  will  seem  to  be  effusions  of  folly 
rather  than  the  language  of  reason  ;  as  any  one  may  see 
in  the  divine  Canticle  of  Solomon,  and  in  others  of  the 
sacred  books,  wherein  the  Holy  Ghost,  because  ordinary 
and  common  speech  could  not  convey  His  meaning, 
uttered  His  mysteries  in  strange  terms  and  similitudes. 
It  follows  from  this,  that  after  all  that  the  holy  doctors 
have  said,  and  may  say,  no  words  of  theirs  can  explain  it ; 
nor  can  words  do  it ;  and  so,  in  general,  all  that  is  said 
falls  far  short  of  the  meaning. 


OF   THE    SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  3 

4.  The  stanzas  that  follow  having  been  written  under 
the  influence  of  that  love  which  proceeds  from  the  over- 
flowing mystical  intelligence,  cannot  be  fully  explained. 
Indeed  I  do  not  purpose  any  such  thing,  for  my  sole 
object  is  to  throw  some  general  light  over  them,  whicn 
in  my  opinion  is  the  better  course.  It  is  better  to  leave 
the  outpourings  of  love  in  their  own  fulness,  that  every 
one  may  apply  them  according  to  the  measure  of  his 
spirit  and  power,  than  to  pare  them  down  to  one  particular 
sense  which  is  not  suited  to  the  taste  of  every  one.  And 
though  I  do  put  forth  a  particular  explanation,  still 
others  are  not  to  be  bound  by  it.  The  mystical  wisdom 
— that  is,  the  love,  of  which  these  stanzas  speak — does 
not  require  to  be  distinctly  understood  in  order  to  pro- 
duce the  effect  of  love  and  tenderness  in  the  soul,  for  it 
is  in  this  respect  like  faith,  by  which  we  love  God  with- 
out a  clear  comprehension  of  Him. 

5.  I  shall  therefore  be  very  concise,  though  now  and 
then  unable  to  avoid  some  prolixity  where  the  subject 
requires  it,  and  when  the  opportunity  is  offered  of  dis- 
cussing and  explaining  certain  points  and  effects  of 
prayer  :  many  of  which  being  referred  to  in  these  stanzas, 
I  must  discuss  some  of  them.  I  shall,  however,  pass  over 
the  more  ordinary  ones,  and  treat  briefly  of  the  more 
extraordinary  to  which  they  are  subject  who,  by  the 
mercy  of    God,   have  advanced  beyond    the    state    of 


4  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 

beginners.  This  I  do  for  two  reasons  :  the  first  is,  that 
much  is  already  written  concerning  beginners  ;  and  the 
second  is,  that  I  am  addressing  those  who  have  received 
from  our  Lord  the  grace  of  being  led  on  from  the  ele- 
mentary state  and  are  led  inwards  to  the  bosom  of  His 
divine  love. 

6.  I  therefore  trust,  though  I  may  discuss  some  points 
of  scholastic  theology  relating  to  the  interior  commerce 
of  the  soul  with  God,  that  I  am  not  using  such  language 
altogether  in  vain,  and  that  it  will  be  found  profitable 
for  pure  spirituality.  For  though  some  may  be  alto- 
gether ignorant  of  scholastic  theology  by  which  the 
divine  verities  are  explained,  yet  they  are  not  ignorant 
of  mystical  theology,  the  science  of  love,  by  which  those 
verities  are  not  only  learned,  but  at  the  same  time  are 
relished  also. 

7.  And  in  order  that  what  I  am  going  to  say  may 
be  the  better  received,  I  submit  myself  to  higher  judg- 
ments, and  unreservedly  to  that  of  our  holy  mother  the 
Church,  intending  to  say  nothing  in  reliance  on  my  own 
personal  experience,  or  on  what  I  have  observed  in  other 
spiritual  persons,  nor  on  what  I  have  heard  them  say — 
though  I  intend  to  profit  by  all  this — unless  I  can  con- 
firm it  with  the  sanction  of  the  divine  writings,  at  least 
on  those  points  which  are  most  difficult  of  comprehension, 

8.  The  method  I  propose  to  follow  in  the  matter  is 


OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  5 

this :  first  of  all,  to  cite  the  words  of  the  text  and  then 
to  give  that  explanation  of  them  which  belongs  to  the 
subject  before  me.  I  shall  now  transcribe  all  the  stanzas 
and  place  them  at  the  beginning  of  this  treatise.  In  the 
next  place,  I  shall  take  each  of  them  separately,  and 
explain  them  line  by  line,  each  line  in  its  proper  place 
before  the  explanation. 


SONG   OF   THE   SOUL   AND   THE   BRIDEGROOM 

I 

THE   BRIDE 

Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself, 

And  abandoned  me  in  my  groaning,  O  my  Beloved  ? 

Thou  hast  fled  like  the  hart, 

Having  wounded  me. 

I  ran  after  Thee,  crying  ;    but  Thou  wert  gone. 


O  shepherds,  you  who  go 

Through  the  sheepcots  up  the  hill, 

If  you  shall  see  Him 

Whom  I  love  the  most. 

Tell  Him  I  languish,  suffer,  and  die. 


In  search  of  my  Love 

I  will  go  over  mountains  and  strands  ; 

I  will  gather  no  flowers, 

I  will  fear  no  wild  beasts  ; 

And  pass  by  the  mighty  and  the  frontiers. 


A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 


O  groves  and  thickets 

Planted  by  the  hand  of  the  Beloved  ; 

O  verdant  meads 

Enamelled  with  flowers, 

Tell  me,  has  He  passed  by  you  ? 

V 

ANSWER  OF   THE   CREATURES 

A  thousand  graces  diffusing 

He  passed  through  the  groves  in  haste. 

And  merely  regarding  them 

As  He  passed 

Clothed  them  with  His  beauty, 

VI 

THE   BRIDE 

Oh  !   who  can  heal  me  ? 

Give  me  at  once  Thyself, 

Send  me  no  more 

A  messenger 

Who  cannot  tell  me  what  I  wish. 


All  they  who  serve  are  telling  me 

Of  Thy  unnumbered  graces  ; 

And  all  wound  me  more  and  more. 

And  something  leaves  me  dying, 

I  know  not  what,  of  which  they  are  darkly  speaking. 


But  how  thou  perseverest,  O  life. 

Not  living  where  thou  livest ; 

The  arrows  bring  death 

Which  thou  receivest 

From  thy  conceptions  of  the  Beloved. 


OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM 


Why,  after  wounding 

This  heart,  hast  Thou  not  healed  it  ? 

And  why,  after  stealing  it, 

Hast  Thou  thus  abandoned  it, 

And  not  carried  away  the  stolen  prey  ? 


Quench  Thou  my  troubles, 

For  no  one  else  can  soothe  them  ; 

And  let  mine  eyes  behold  Thee, 

For  thou  art  their  light. 

And  I  will  keep  them  for  Thee  alone. 


Reveal  Thy  presence. 

And  let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me. 

Behold  the  malady 

Of  love  is  incurable 

Except  in  Thy  presence  and  before  Thy  face. 

XII 

O  crystal  well  ! 

Oh  that  on  Thy  silvered  surface 

Thou  wouldest  mirror  forth  at  once 

Those  eyes  desired 

Which  are  outlined  in  my  heart  ! 


Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved  ! 
I  am  on  the  wing  : 

THE   BRIDEGROOM 

Return,  My  Dove  ! 

The  wounded  hart 

Looms  on  the  hill 

In  the  air  of  thy  flight  and  is  refreshed. 


A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 

XIV 

THE   BRIDE 

My  Beloved  is  the  mountains, 

The  solitary  wooded  valleys. 

The  strange  islands, 

The  roaring  torrents. 

The  whisper  of  the  amorous  gales  ; 

XV 

The  tranquil  night 

At  the  approaches  of  the  dawn. 

The  silent  music. 

The  murmuring  solitude. 

The  supper  which  revives,  and  enkindles  love. 


Catch  us  the  foxes. 

For  our  vineyard  hath  flourished  ; 

While  of  roses 

We  make  a  nosegay. 

And  let  no  one  appear  on  the  hill. 


O  killing  north  wind,  cease  ! 

Come,  south  wind,  that  awakenest  love  ! 

Blow  through  my  garden. 

And  let  its  odours  flow. 

And  the  Beloved  shall  feed  among  the  flowers. 


O  nymphs  of  Judea  ! 

While  amid  the  flowers  and  the  rose-trees 

The  amber  sends  forth  its  perfume. 

Tarry  in  the  suburbs, 

And  touch  not  our  thresholds. 


OF  THE   SOUL  AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM 


Hide  thyself,  O  my  Beloved  ! 

Turn  Thy  face  to  the  mountains. 

Do  not  speak, 

But  regard  the  companions 

Of  her  who  is  travellinsr  amidst  strange  islands. 


XX 

THE   BRIDEGROOM 

Light-winged  birds, 

Lions,  fawns,  bounding  does, 

Mountains,  valleys,  strands, 

Waters,  winds,  heat. 

And  the  terrors  that  keep  watch  by  night ; 

XXI 

By  the  soft  lyres 

And  the  siren  strains,  I  adjure  you. 

Let  your  fury  cease, 

And  touch  not  the  wall, 

That  the  bride  may  sleep  in  greater  security. 


The  bride  has  entered 

The  pleasant  and  desirable  garden, 

And  there  reposes  to  her  heart's  content  ; 

Her  neck  reclining 

On  the  sweet  arms  of  the  Beloved. 


Beneath  the  apple-tree 
There  wert  thou  betrothed  ; 
There  I  gave  thee  My  hand, 
And  thou  wert  redeemed 
Where  thy  mother  was  corrupted. 


10  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 

XXIV 

THE   BRIDE 

Our  bed  is  of  flowers 

By  dens  of  lions  encompassed, 

Hung  with  purple, 

Made  in  peace. 

And  crowned  with  a  thousand  shields  of  gold. 


In  Thy  footsteps 
The  young  ones  run  Thy  way  ; 
At  the  touch  of  the  fire, 
And  by  the  spiced  wine. 
The  divine  balsam  flows. 


In  the  inner  cellar 

Of  my  Beloved  have  I  drunk  ;    and  when  I  went  forth 

Over  all  the  plain 

I  knew  nothing, 

And  lost  the  flock  I  followed  before. 


There  He  gave  me  His  breasts, 

There  He  taught  me  the  science  full  of  sweetness. 

And  there  I  gave  to  Him 

Myself  without  reserve  ; 

There  I  promised  to  be  His  bride. 


My  soul  is  occupied. 

And  all  my  substance  in  His  service  ; 

Now  I  guard  no  flock. 

Nor  have  I  any  other  employment : 

My  sole  occupation  is  love. 


OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  II 


If,  then,  on  the  common  land 
I  am  no  longer  seen  or  found, 
You  will  say  that  I  am  lost  ; 
That,  being  enamoured, 
I  lost  myself  ;   and  yet  was  found. 


Of  emeralds,  and  of  flowers 

In  the  early  morning  gathered. 

We  will  make  the  garlands, 

Flowering  in  Thy  love. 

And  bound  together  with  one  hair  of_^my  head. 


By  that  one  hair 

Thou  hast  observed  fluttering  on  my  neck, 

And  on  my  neck  regarded. 

Thou  wert  captivated  ; 

And  wounded  by  one  of  my  eyes. 


When  Thou  didst  regard  me, 
Thine  eyes  imprinted  in  me  Thy  grace 
For  this  didst  Thou  love  me  again, 
And  thereby  mine  eyes  did  merit 
To  adore  what  in  Thee  they  saw. 


Despise  me  not. 

For  if  I  was  swarthy  once 

Thou  canst  regard  me  now  ; 

Since  Thou  hast  regarded  me, 

Grace  and  beauty  hast  Thou  given  me 


12  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE 

XXXIV 

THE   BRIDEGROOM 

The  little  white  dove 

Has  returned  to  the  ark  with  the  bough 

And  now  the  turtle-dove 

Its  desired  mate 

On  the  green  banks  has  found. 


In  solitude  she  lived, 

And  in  solitude  built  her  nest  ; 

And  in  solitude,  alone 

Hath  the  Beloved  guided  her, 

In  solitude  also  wounded  with  love. 

xxxvi 

THE   BRIDE 

Let  us  rejoice,  O  my  Beloved  ! 

Let  us  go  forth  to  see  ourselves  in  Thy  beauty. 

To  the  mountain  and  the  hill. 

Where  the  pure  water  flows  ; 

Let  us  enter  into  the  heart  of  the  thicket. 


We  shall  go  at  once 

To  the  deep  caverns  of  the  rock 

Which  are  all  secret. 

There  we  shall  enter  in 

And  taste  of  the  new  wine  of  the  pomegranate. 


There  thou  wilt  show  me 

That  which  my  soul  desired  ; 

And  there  Thou  wilt  give  at  once, 

O  Thou,  my  life  ! 

That  which  Thou  gavest  me  the  other  day. 


OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  1 3 


The  breathing  of  the  air, 

The  song  of  the  sweet  nightingale, 

The  grove  and  its  beauty 

In  the  serene  night. 

With  the  flame  that  consumes,  and  gives  no  pains. 


None  saw  it ; 

Neither  did  Aminadab  appear. 
The  siege  was  intermitted. 
And  the  cavalry  dismounted 
At  the  sight  of  the  waters. 


ARGUMENT 

These  stanzas  describe  the  career  of  a  soul  from  its 
first  entrance  on  the  service  of  God  till  it  comes  to  the 
final  state  of  perfection — ^the  spiritual  marriage.  They 
refer  accordingly  to  the  three  states  or  ways  of  the 
spiritual  training — the  purgative,  illuminative,  and  unitive 
ways,  some  properties  and  effects  of  which  they  explain. 

The  first  stanzas  relate  to  beginners — to  the  purgative 
way.  The  second  to  the  advanced — to  the  state  of 
spiritual  betrothal ;  that  is,  the  illuminative  way.  The 
next  to  the  unitive  way — that  of  the  perfect,  the  spiritual 
marriage.  The  unitive  way,  that  of  the  perfect,  follows 
the  illuminative,  which  is  that  of  the  advanced.  The 
last  stanzas  treat  of  the  beatific  state,  which  only  the 
already  perfect  soul  aims  at. 


14  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   I.] 

EXPLANATION   OF   THE   STANZAS 

NOTE 

The  soul,  considering  the  obhgations  of  its  state, 
seeing  that  '  the  days  of  man  are  short  ;  '  *  that  the  way 
of  eternal  life  is  strait  ;  f  that '  the  just  man  shall  scarcely 
be  saved  ;  '  J  that  the  things  of  this  world  are  empty 
and  deceitful ;  that  all  die  and  perish  like  water  poured 
on  the  ground  ;  §  that  time  is  uncertain,  the  last  account 
strict,  perdition  most  easy,  and  salvation  most  difficult  ; 
and  recognising  also,  on  the  other  hand,  the  great  debt 
that  is  owing  to  God,  Who  has  created  it  solely  for  Him- 
self, for  which  the  service  of  its  whole  life  is  due,  Who 
has  redeemed  it  for  Himself  alone,  for  which  it  owes  Him 
all  else,  and  the  correspondence  of  its  will  to  His  love  ; 
and  remembering  other  innumerable  blessings  for  which 
it  acknowledges  itself  indebted  to  God  even  before  it 
was  born  :  and  also  that  a  great  part  of  its  life  has  been 
wasted,  and  that  it  will  have  to  render  an  account  of  it 
all  from  the  beginning  unto  the  end,  to  the  payment  of 
'  the  last  farthing,'  ||  when  God  shall  '  search  Jerusalem 
with  lamps  ;  '  ^  that  it  is  already  late,  and  perhaps  the 
end  of  the  day  :  **  in  order  to  remedy  so  great  an  evil, 

*  Job  xiv.  5.  t   St.  Matt.  vii.  14,       J    i  St.  Pet.  iv.  18. 

§  2  Kings  xiv.  14.  ||  St.  Matt.  v.  26.  If  Sophon,  i.  12.     ^ 

**  St.  Matt.  XX.  6. 


[STAN.    I.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  1 5 

especially  when  it  is  conscious  that  God  is  grievously 
offended,  and  that  He  has  hidden  His  face  from  it,  because 
it  would  forget  Him  for  the  creature, — the  soul,  now 
touched  with  sorrow  and  inward  sinking  of  the  heart 
at  the  sight  of  its  imminent  risks  and  ruin,  renouncing 
everything  and  casting  them  aside  without  delaying  for 
a  day,  or  even  an  hour,  with  fear  and  groanings  uttered 
from  the  heart,  and  wounded  with  the  love  of  God, 
begins  to  invoke  the  Beloved  and  says  : 


STANZA    I 

THE    BRIDE 

Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself, 

And  left  me  to  my  sorrow,  0  my  Beloved  ! 

Thou  hast  fled  like  the  hart. 

Having  wounded  me. 

I  ran  after  Thee,  crying  ;  but  Thou  werf  gone. 

In  this  first  stanza  the  soul,  enamoured  of  the  Word, 
the  Son  of  God,  the  Bridegroom,  desiring  to  be  united 
to  Him  in  the  clear  and  substantial  vision,  sets  before 
Him  the  anxieties  of  its  love,  complaining  of  His  absence. 
And  this  the  more  so  because,  now  pierced  and  wounded 
with  love,  for  which  it  had  abandoned  all  things,  even 
itself,  it  has  still  to  endure  the  absence  of  the  Beloved, 
Who  has  not  released  it  from  its  mortal  flesh,  that  it 


l6  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

might  have  the  fruition  of  Him  in  the  glory  of  eternity. 
Hence  it  cries  out, 

*  Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself  ?  ' 

2.  It  is  as  if  the  soul  said,  '  Show  me,0  Thou  the  Word, 
my  Bridegroom,  the  place  where  Thou  art  hidden.'  It 
asks  for  the  revelation  of  the  divine  Essence  ;  for  the 
place  where  the  Son  of  God  is  hidden  is,  according  to 
St.  John,  '  the  bosom  of  the  Father,'  *  which  is  the 
divine  Essence,  transcending  all  mortal  vision,  and 
hidden  from  all  human  understanding,  as  Isaias  saith, 
speaking  to  God,  '  Verily  Thou  art  a  hidden  God.'  f  From 
this  we  learn  that  the  communication  and  sense  of  His 
presence,  however  great  they  may  be,  and  the  most 
sublime  and  profound  knowledge  of  God  which  the  soul 
may  have  in  this  life,  are  not  God  essentially,  neither 
have  they  any  affinity  with  Him,  for  in  very  truth  He  is 
still  hidden  from  the  soul ;  and  it  is  therefore  expedient 
for  it,  amid  all  these  grandeurs,  always  to  consider  Him 
as  hidden,  and  to  seek  Him  in  His  hiding-place,  saying, 

*  Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself  ?  ' 

3.  Neither  sublime  communications  nor  sensible 
presence  furnish  any  certain  proof  of  His  gracious  pre- 
sence ;  nor  is  the  absence  thereof,  and  aridity,  any  proof 
of  His    absence    from    the    soul.     '  If  He  come  to  me, 

*  St.  John  i.  18.  t  Is.  xlv.  15. 


[STAN.    I.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  I7 

I  shall  not  see  Him  ;  if  He  depart,  I  shall  not  under- 
stand.' *  That  is,  if  the  soul  have  any  great  communica- 
tion, or  impression,  or  spiritual  knowledge,  it  must  not 
on  that  account  persuade  itself  that  what  it  then  feels 
is  to  enjoy  or  see  God  clearly  and  in  His  Essence,  or  that 
it  brings  it  nearer  to  Him,  or  Him  to  it,  however  deep 
such  feelings  may  be.  On  the  other  hand,  when  all 
these  sensible  and  spiritual  communications  fail  it,  and 
it  is  itself  in  dryness,  darkness,  and  desolation,  it  must 
not  on  that  account  suppose  that  God  is  far  from  it ;  for 
in  truth  the  former  state  is  no  sign  of  its  being  in  a  state 
of  grace,  nor  is  the  latter  a  sign  that  it  is  not ;  for  '  man 
knoweth  not  whether  he  be  worthy  of  love  or  hatred  '  f 
in  the  sight  of  God. 

4.  The  chief  object  of  the  soul  in  these  words  is 
not  to  ask  only  for  that  affective  and  sensible  devotion, 
wherein  there  is  no  certainty  or  evidence  of  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Bridegroom  in  this  life  ;  but  principally  for 
that  clear  presence  and  vision  of  His  Essence,  of  which 
it  longs  to  be  assured  and  satisfied  in  the  next.  This, 
too,  was  the  object  of  the  bride  who,  in  the  divine  song 
desiring  to  be  united  to  the  Divinity  of  the  Bridegroom 
Word,  prayed  to  the  Father,  saying,  '  Show  me  where 
Thou  feedest,  where  Thou  hest  in  the  midday.'  J  For  to 
ask  to  be  shown  the  place  where  He  fed  was  to  ask  to  be 

*  Job  ix.   II,  f   Eccles.  ix.  i.  |  Cant.  i.  6. 

2 


l8  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

shown  the  Essence  of  the  Divine  Word,  the  Son  ;  because 
the  Father  feedeth  nowhere  else  but  in  His  only  begotten 
Son,  Who  is  the  glory  of  the  Father.  In  asking  to  be 
shown  the  place  where  He  lieth  in  the  midday,  was  to  ask 
for  the  same  thing,  because  the  Son  is  the  sole  delight  of 
the  Father,  Who  lieth  in  no  other  place,  and  is  com- 
prehended by  no  other  thing,  but  in  and  by  His  beloved 
Son,  in  Whom  He  reposeth  wholly,  communicating  to 
Him  His  whole  Essence,  in  the  '  midday,'  which  is 
eternity,  where  the  Father  is  ever  begetting  and  the  Son 
ever  begotten. 

5.  This  pasture,  then,  is  the  Bridegroom  Word,  where 
the  Father  feedeth  in  infinite  glory.  He  is  also  the  bed 
of  flowers  whereupon  He  reposes  with  infinite  delight  of 
love,  profoundly  hidden  from  all  mortal  vision  and 
every  created  thing.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  bride- 
soul  when  she  says, 

'  Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself  ?  ' 

6.  That  the  thirsty  soul  may  find  the  Bridegroom, 
and  be  one  with  Him  in  the  union  of  love  in  this  life — 
so  far  as  that  is  possible — and  quench  its  thirst  with  that 
drink  which  it  is  possible  to  drink  of  at  His  hands  in 
this  life,  it  will  be  as  well — since  that  is  what  the  soul 
asks  of  Him — that  we  should  answer  for  Him,  and  point 
out  the  special  spot  where  He  is  hidden,  that  He  may  be 


[STAN.    I.]     OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  I9 

found  there  in  that  perfection  and  sweetness  of  which 
this  hfe  is  capable,  and  that  the  soul  may  not  begin  to 
loiter  uselessly  in  the  footsteps  of  its  companions. 

7.  We  must  remember  that  the  Word,  the  Son  of 
God,  together  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  is 
hidden  in  essence  and  in  presence,  in  the  inmost  being  of 
the  soul.  That  soul,  therefore,  that  will  find  Him,  must 
go  out  from  all  things  in  will  and  affection,  and  enter  into 
the  profoundest  self-recollection,  and  all  things  must  be 
to  it  as  if  they  existed  not.  Hence,  St.  Augustin  saith  : 
*  I  found  Thee  not  without,  O  Lord ;  I  sought  Thee 
without  in  vain,  for  Thou  art  within.'  *  God  is  there- 
fore hidden  within  the  soul,  and  the  true  contemplative 
will  seek  Him  there  in  love,  saying, 

'  Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself  ?  ' 

8.  O  thou  soul,  then,  most  beautiful  of  creatures,  who 
so  longest  to  know  the  place  where  thy  Beloved  is,  that 
thou  mayest  seek  Him,  and  be  united  to  Him,  thou 
knowest  now  that  thou  art  thyself  that  very  tabernacle 
where  He  dwells,  the  secret  chamber  of  His  retreat  where 
He  is  hidden.  Rejoice,  therefore,  and  exult,  because  all 
thy  good  and  all  thy  hope  is  so  near  thee  as  to  be  within 
thee  ;  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  that  thou  canst  not 
be  without  it,    '  for  lo,    the    kingdom  of  God  is  within 

*  '  Soliloq.,'  c.  31.  Opp.  Ed.  Ben.  torn.  vi.  app.  p.  98. 


20  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

you.'  *  So  saith  the  Bridegroom  Himself,  and  His  servant, 
St.  Paul,  adds  :  '  You  are  the  temple  of  the  living  God.'  f 
What  joy  for  the  soul  to  learn  that  God  never  abandons 
it,  even  in  mortal  sin  ;  how  much  less  in  a  state  of  grace  !  J 

9.  What  more  canst  thou  desire,  what  more  canst 
thou  seek  without,  seeing  that  within  thou  hast  thy 
riches,  thy  delight,  thy  satisfaction,  thy  fulness  and  thy 
kingdom;  that  is,  thy  Beloved,  Whom  thou  desirest  and 
seekest  ?  Rejoice,  then,  and  be  glad  in  Him  with  interior 
recollection,  seeing  that  thou  hast  Him  so  near.  Then 
love  Him,  then  desire  Him,  then  adore  Him,  and  go  not 
to  seek  Him  out  of  thyself,  for  that  will  be  but  distraction 
and  weariness,  and  thou  shalt  not  find  Him  ;  because 
there  is  no  fruition  of  Him  more  certain,  more  ready, 
or  more  intimate  than  that  which  is  within. 

10.  One  difficulty  alone  remains :  though  He  is 
within,  yet  He  is  hidden.  But  it  is  a  great  matter  to 
know  the  place  of  His  secret  rest,  that  He  may  be  sought 
there  with  certainty.  The  knowledge  of  this  is  that 
which  thou  askest  for  here,  O  soul,  when  with  loving 
affection  thou  criest, 

'  Where  hast  Thou  hidden  Thyself  ?  ' 

11.  You  ^\^ll  still  urge  and  say.  How  comes  it,  then, 
that  I  find  Him  not,  nor  feel  Him,  if  He  is  within  my 

*  St.  Lukexvii.  21."'  f  aCor.  vi.  16.     +   '  Mt.  Carmcl, '  Bk.  2,  c.  5,  §  3. 


[STAN.    I.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  21 

soul  ?  It  is  because  He  is  hidden,  and  because  thou 
hidest  not  thyself  also  that  thou  mayest  find  Him  and 
feel  Him  ;  for  he  that  will  seek  that  which  is  hidden  must 
enter  secretly  into  the  secret  place  where  it  is  hidden,  and 
when  he  finds  it,  he  is  himself  hidden  like  the  object  of 
his  search.  Seeing,  then,  that  the  Bridegroom  whom 
thou  lovest  is  '  the  treasure  hidden  in  the  field  '  *  of  thy 
soul,  for  which  the  wise  merchant  gave  all  that  he  had, 
so  thou,  if  thou  wilt  find  Him,  must  forget  all  that  is 
thine,  withdraw  from  all  created  things,  and  hide  thyself 
in  the  secret  retreat  of  the  spirit,  shutting  the  door  upon 
thyself — that  is,  denying  thy  will  in  all  things — and 
praying  to  thy  Father  in  secret. f  Then  thou,  being 
hidden  with  Him,  wilt  be  conscious  of  His  presence 
in  secret,  and  wilt  love  Him,  possess  Him  in  secret,  and 
delight  in  Him  in  secret,  in  a  way  that  no  tongue  or 
language  can  express. 

12.  Courage,  then,  O  soul  most  beautiful,  thou 
knowest  now  that  thy  Beloved,  Whom  thou  desirest, 
dwelleth  hidden  within  thy  breast ;  strive,  therefore,  to 
be  truly  hidden  with  Him,  and  then  thou  shalt  embrace 
Him,  and  be  conscious  of  His  presence  with  loving 
affection.  Consider  also  that  He  bids  thee,  by  the  mouth 
of  Isaias,  to  come  to  His  secret  hiding-place,  saying,  '  Go, 
.     .     .     enter  into  thy  chambers,  shut  thy  doors  upon 

*  St.  Matt.  xiii.  44.  f  lb.  vi.  6. 


22  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

thee  '  ;  that  is,  all  thy  faculties,  so  that  no  created  thing 
shall  enter  :  '  be  hid  a  little  for  a  moment,'  *  that  is,  for 
the  moment  of  this  mortal  life  ;  for,  if  now  during 
this  life  which  is  short,  thou  wilt  '  with  all  watchfulness 
keep  thy  heart,'  f  as  the  wise  man  saith,  God  will  most 
assuredly  give  thee,  as  He  hath  promised  by  the  prophet 
Isaias,  '  hidden  treasures  and  mysteries  of  secrets.'  J 
The  substance  of  these  secrets  is  God  Himself,  for  He  is 
the  substance  of  the  faith,  and  the  object  of  it,  and  the 
faith  is  the  secret  and  the  mystery.  And  when  that 
which  the  faith  conceals  shall  be  revealed  and  made 
manifest,  that  is  the  perfection  of  God,  as  St.  Paul  saith, 
'  When  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,'  §  then  shall  be 
revealed  to  the  soul  the  substance  and  mysteries  of  these 
secrets. 

13.  Though  in  this  mortal  life  the  soul  will  never 
reach  to  the  interior  secrets  as  it  will  in  the  next,  however 
much  it  may  hide  itself,  still,  if  it  will  hide  itself  with 
Moses,  '  in  the  hole  of  the  rock  ' — which  is  a  real  imitation 
of  the  perfect  life  of  the  Bridegroom,  the  Son  of  God — 
protected  by  the  right  hand  of  God,  it  will  merit  the 
vision  of  the  '  back  parts ' ;  ||  that  is,  it  will  reach  to  such 
perfection  here,  as  to  be  united,  and  transformed  by  love, 
in  the  Son  of  God,  its  Bridegroom.     So  effectually  will 

*  Is.  xxvi.  20.  I   Prov.  iv.  23.  I  Is.  xlv.  3, 

§  I   Cor.   xiii.    10.         ||  Exod.   xxxiii.   2Z,   23. 


[STAN.    I.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  23 

this  be  wrought  that  the  soul  will  feel  itself  so  united  to 
Him,  so  learned  and  so  instructed  in  His  secrets,  that,  so 
far  as  the  knowledge  of  Him  in  this  life  is  concerned,  it 
will  be  no  longer  necessary  for  it  to  say  :  '  Where  hast 
Thou  hidden  Thyself  ? 

14.  Thou  knowest  then,  O  soul,  how  thou  art  to 
demean  thyself  if  thou  wilt  find  the  Bridegroom  in  His 
secret  place.  But  if  thou  wilt  hear  it  again,  hear  this  one 
word  full  of  substance  and  unapproachable  truth  :  Seek 
Him  in  faith  and  love,  without  seeking  to  satisfy  thyself 
in  aught,  or  to  understand  more  than  is  expedient  for 
thee  to  know  ;  for  faith  and  love  are  the  two  guides  of 
the  blind  ;  they  will  lead  thee,  by  a  way  thou  knowest  not, 
to  the  secret  chamber  of  God.  Faith,  the  secret  of  which 
I  am  speaking,  is  the  foot  that  journeys  onwards  to  God, 
and  love  is  the  guide  that  directs  its  steps.  And  while 
the  soul  meditates  on  the  mysterious  secrets  of  the  faith, 
it  will  merit  the  revelation,  on  the  part  of  love,  of  that 
which  the  faith  involves,  namely,  the  Bridegroom  Whom 
it  longs  for,  in  this  life  by  spiritual  grace,  and  the  divine 
union,  as  we  said  before,*  and  in  the  next  in  essential 
glory,  face  to  face,  hidden  now. 

15.  But  meanwhile,  though  the  soul  attains  to  union, 
the  highest  state  possible  in  this  life,  yet  inasmuch  as  He 
is  still  hidden  from  it  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  as  I  have 

*  §  4. 


24  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

said,  the  soul  longing  for  the  fruition  of  Him  in  the  life  to 
come,  ever  cries,  '  Where  hast  Thou  hiddenThyself  ?  ' 

i6.  Thou  doest  well,  then,  O  soul,  in  seeking  Him 
always  in  His  secret  place  ;  for  thou  greatly  magnifiest 
God,  and  drawest  near  unto  Him,  esteeming  Him  as  far 
beyond  and  above  all  thou  canst  reach.  Rest,  therefore, 
neither  wholly  nor  in  part,  on  what  thy  faculties  can 
embrace  ;  never  seek  to  satisfy  thyself  with  what  thou 
comprehendest  of  God,  but  rather  with  what  thou 
comprehendest  not ;  and  never  rest  on  the  love  of,  and 
delight  in,  that  which  thou  canst  understand  and  feel,  but 
rather  on  that  which  is  beyond  thy  understanding  and 
feeling  :    this  is,  as  I  have  said,  to  seek  Him  by  faith. 

17.  God  is,  as  I  said  before,*  inaccessible  and  hidden, 
and  though  it  may  seem  that  thou  hast  found  Him,  felt 
Him,  and  comprehended  Him,  yet  thou  must  ever  regard 
Him  as  hidden,  serve  Him  as  hidden,  in  secret.  Be  not 
thou  like  many  unwise,  who,  with  low  views  of  God, 
think  that  when  they  cannot  comprehend  Him,  or  be 
conscious  of  His  presence,  that  He  is  then  farther  away 
and  more  hidden,  when  the  contrary  is  true,  namely, 
that  He  is  nearer  to  them  when  they  are  least  aware  of 
it  ;  as  the  prophet  David  saith,  '  He  put  darkness  His 
covert.'  t  Thus,  when  thou  art  near  unto  Him,  the 
very  infirmity  of  thy  vision  makes  the  darkness  palpable  ; 

*  §  2.  j    Ps.  xvii.   12. 


[STAN.    I.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  25 

thou  doest  well,  therefore,  at  all  times,  in  prosperity  as 
well  as  in  adversity,  spiritual  or  temporal,  to  look  upon 
God  as  hidden,  and  to  say  unto  Him,  '  Where  hast  Thou 
hidden  Thyself  ? 

(        And  left  me  to  my  sorrow,  O  my  Beloved  ?  ' 

i8.  The  soul  calls  Him  '  my  Beloved,'  the  more  to 
move  Him  to  listen  to  its  cry,  for  God,  when  loved,  most 
readily  listens  to  the  prayer  of  him  who  loves  Him.  Thus 
He  speaks  Himself  :  '  If  you  abide  in  Me  .  ,  .  you  shall 
ask  what  thing  soever  you  will,  and  it  shall  be  done 
to  you.  '  *  The  soul  may  then  with  truth  call  Him 
Beloved,  when  it  is  wholly  His,  when  the  heart  has  no 
attachments  but  Him,  and  when  all  the  thoughts  are 
continually  directed  to  Him.  It  was  the  absence  of  this 
that  made  Delila  say  to  Samson,  '  How  dost  thou  say 
thou  lovest  me  when  thy  mind  is  not  with  me  ?  '  f  The 
mind  comprises  the  thoughts  and  the  feelings.  Some  there 
are  who  call  the  Bridegroom  their  Beloved,  but  He  is  not 
really  beloved,  because  their  heart  is  not  wholly  with  Him. 
Their  prayers  are,  therefore,  not  so  effectual  before  God, 
and  they  shall  not  obtain  their  petitions  until,  persevering 
in  prayer,  they  fix  their  minds  more  constantly  upon 
God  and  their  hearts  more  wholly  in  loving  affection  upon 
Him,  for  nothing  can  be  obtained  from  God  but  by  love. 

*  St.  John  XV.  7.  I   Judg.  xvi.  15. 


26  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

19.  The  words,  '  And  left  me  to  my  sorrow,'  tell  us 
that  the  absence  of  the  Beloved  is  the  cause  of  continual 
sadness  in  him  who  loves  ;  for  as  such  an  one  loves  none 
else,  so,  in  the  absence  of  the  object  beloved,  nothing 
can  console  or  relieve  him.  This  is,  therefore,  a  test 
to  discern  the  true  lover  of  God.  Is  he  satisfied  with 
anything  less  than  God  ?  Do  I  say  satisfied  ?  Yea, 
if  a  man  possess  all  things,  he  cannot  be  satisfied  ;  the 
greater  his  possessions  the  less  will  be  his  satisfaction, 
for  the  satisfaction  of  the  heart  is  not  found  in  posses- 
sions, but  in  detachment  from  all  things  and  in  poverty 
of  spirit.  This  being  so,  the  perfection  of  love  in  which 
we  possess  God,  by  a  grace  most  intimate  and  special, 
lives  in  the  soul  in  this  life  when  it  has  reached  it,  with 
a  certain  satisfaction,  which  however  is  not  full,  for 
David,  notwithstanding  all  his  perfection,  hoped  for  that 
in  heaven,  saying,  '  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  Thy  glory 
shall  appear.'  * 

20.  Thus,  then,  the  peace  and  tranquillity  and  satis- 
faction of  heart  to  which  the  soul  may  attain  in  this  life 
are  not  sufficient  to  relieve  it  from  its  groaning,  peaceful 
and  painless  though  it  be,  while  it  hopes  for  that  which 
is  still  wanting.  Groaning  belongs  to  hope,  as  the  Apostle 
says  of  himself  and  others,  though  perfect,  '  Ourselves 
also,  who  have  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  even  we 

*  Ps.  xvi.  15. 


[STAN.    I.]     OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  27 

ourselves  groan  within  ourselves,  waiting  for  the  adoption 
of  the  sons  of  God.'  *  The  soul  groans  when  the  heart  is 
enamoured,  for  where  love  wounds  there  is  heard  the 
groaning  of  the  wounded  one,  complaining  feelingly  of  the 
absence  of  the  Beloved,  especially  when,  after  tasting 
of  the  sweet  converse  of  the  Bridegroom,  it  finds  itself 
suddenly  alone,  and  in  aridity,  because  He  has  gone 
away.     That  is  why  it  cries, 

'  Thou  hast  fled  like  the  hart.' 

21.  Here  it  is  to  be  observed  that  in  the  Canticle  of 
Canticles  the  bride  compares  the  Bridegroom  to  the  roe 
and  the  hart  on  the  mountains — '  My  Beloved  is  like  unto 
a  roe  and  to  a  fawn  of  harts '  f — not  only  because  He  is 
shy,  solitary,  and  avoids  companions  as  the  hart,  but  also 
for  his  sudden  appearance  and  disappearance.  That  is 
His  way  in  His  visits  to  devout  souls  in  order  to  comfort 
and  encourage  them,  and  in  the  withdrawing  and  absence 
which  He  makes  them  feel  after  those  visits  in  order  to 
try,  humble,  and  teach  them.  For  that  purpose  He  makes 
them  feel  the  pain  of  His  absence  most  keenly,  as  the 
following  words  show : 

'  Having  wounded   me.' 

22.  It  is  as  if  it  had  said,  '  It  was  not  enough  that  T 

*  Rom.  viii,  23.  f  Cant,  ii,  9. 


28  A   SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE  [STAN.    I.] 

should  feel  the  pain  and  grief  which  Thy  absence  causes, 
and  from  which  I  am  continually  suffering,  but  Thou 
must,  after  wounding  me  with  the  arrow  of  Thy  love, 
and  increasing  my  longing  and  desire  to  see  Thee,  run 
away  from  me  with  the  swiftness  of  the  hart,  and  not 
permit  me  to  lay  hold  of  Thee,  even  for  a  moment.' 

23.  For  the  clearer  understanding  of  this  we  are  to 
keep  in  mind  that,  beside  the  many  kinds  of  God's  visits 
to  the  soul,  in  which  He  wounds  it  with  love,  there  are 
commonly  certain  secret  touches  of  love,  which,  like  a 
fiery  arrow,  pierce  and  penetrate  the  soul,  and  burn  it 
with  the  fire  of  love.  These  are  properly  called  the 
wounds  of  love,  and  it  is  of  these  the  soul  is  here  speaking. 
These  wounds  so  inflame  the  will,  that  the  soul  becomes 
so  enveloped  with  the  fire  of  love  as  to  appear  consumed 
thereby.  They  make  it  go  forth  out  of  itself,  and  be 
renewed,  and  enter  on  another  life,  as  the  phoenix  from 
the  fire. 

24.  David,  speaking  of  this,  saith,  '  My  heart  hath 
been  inflamed,  and  my  reins  have  been  changed  ;  and 
I  am  brought  to  nothing,  and  I  knew  not.'  *  The  desires 
and  affections,  called  the  reins  by  the  prophet,  are  all 
stirred  and  divinely  changed  in  this  burning  of  the 
heart,  and  the  soul,  through  love,  melts  into  nothing, 
knowing  nothing  but  love.     At  this  time  the  changing 

*  Ps.  Ixxii.  21,  22. 


[STAN.    I.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  29 

of  the  reins  is  a  great  pain,  and  longing  for  the  vision 
of  God  ;  it  seems  to  the  soul  that  God  treats  it  with 
intolerable  severity,  so  much  so  that  the  severity  with 
which  love  treats  it  seems  to  the  soul  unendurable,  not 
because  it  is  wounded — for  it  considers  such  wounds  to 
be  its  salvation — but  because  it  is  thus  suffering  from 
its  love,  and  because  He  has  not  wounded  it  more  deeply, 
so  as  to  cause  death,  that  it  may  be  united  to  Him  in  the 
life  of  perfect  love.  The  soul,  therefore,  magnifying 
its  sorrows,  or  revealing  them,  says, 

'  Having  wounded  me.' 

25.  The  soul  says  in  effect,  '  Thou  hast  abandoned 
me  after  wounding  me,  and  Thou  hast  left  me  dying  of 
love  ;  and  then  Thou  hast  hidden  Thyself  as  a  hart 
swiftly  running  away.'  This  impression  is  most  pro- 
found in  the  soul ;  for  by  the  wound  of  love,  made 
in  the  soul  by  God,  the  affections  of  the  will  lead  most 
rapidly  to  the  possession  of  the  Beloved,  whose  touch 
it  felt,  and  as  rapidly  also.  His  absence,  and  its  inability 
to  have  the  fruition  of  Him  here  as  it  desires.  There- 
upon succeed  the  groaning  because  of  His  absence  ;  for 
these  visitations  of  God  are  not  like  those  which  recreate 
and  satisfy  the  soul,  because  they  are  rather  for  wounding 
than  for  healing — more  for  afflicting  than  for  satisfying 
it,  seeing  that  they  tend  rather  to  quicken  the  knowledge, 


30  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAX.    I.] 

and  increase  the  longing,  and  consequently  pain  with  the 
longing  for  the  vision  of  God.  They  are  called  the 
spiritual  wounds  of  love,  most  sweet  to  the  soul  and 
desirable ;  and,  therefore,  when  it  is  thus  wounded 
the  soul  would  willingly  die  a  thousand  deaths,  because 
these  wounds  make  it  go  forth  out  of  itself,  and  enter 
into  God,  which  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  that  follow  : 

'  I  ran  after  Thee,  crying  ;   but  Thou  wert  gone.' 

26.  There  can  be  no  remedy  for  the  wounds  of  love 
but  from  Him  who  inflicted  them.  And  so  the  wounded 
soul,  urged  by  the  vehemence  of  that  burning  which 
the  wounds  of  love  occasion,  runs  after  the  Beloved, 
crying  unto  Him  for  relief.  This  spiritual  running  after 
God  has  a  two-fold  meaning.  The  first  is  a  going  forth 
from  all  created  things,  which  is  effected  by  hating  and 
despising  them  ;  the  second,  a  going  forth  out  of  oneself, 
by  forgetting  self,  which  is  brought  about  by  the  love  of 
God.  For  when  the  love  of  God  touches  the  soul  with 
that  vividness  of  which  we  are  here  speaking,  it  so  elevates 
it,  that  it  goes  forth  not  only  out  of  itself  by  self-forget- 
fulness,  but  is  also  drawn  away  from  its  own  judgment, 
natural  ways  and  inclinations,  crying  after  God,  '  O  my 
Bridegroom,'  as  if  saying,  '  By  this  touch  of  Thine  and 
wound  of  love  hast  Thou  drawn  me  away  not  only  from 
all  created  things,  but  also  from  myself — for,  in  truth, 


[STAN.    I.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  3I 

soul  and  body  seem  now  to  part — and  raised  me  up 
to  Thyself,  crying  after  Thee  in  detachment  from  all 
things  that  I  might  be  attached  to  Thee  : 

'Thou   wert   gone.' 

27.  As  if  saying,  '  When  I  sought  Thy  presence,  I  found 
Thee  not  ;  and  I  was  detached  from  all  things  without 
being  able  to  cHng  to  Thee — borne  painfully  by  the  gales 
of  love  without  help  in  Thee  or  in  myself.  This  going 
forth  of  the  soul  in  search  of  the  Beloved  is  the  rising  of 
the  bride  in  the  Canticle  :  '  I  will  rise  and  go  about  the 
city  ;  in  the  streets  and  the  high  ways  I  will  seek  Him 
Whom  my  soul  loveth.  I  have  sought  Him  and  have  not 
found  .  .  .  they  wounded  me,'  *  The  rising  of  the  bride 
— speaking  spiritually — is  from  that  which  is  mean  to 
that  which  is  noble  ;  and  is  the  same  with  the  going  forth 
of  the  soul  out  of  its  own  ways  and  inferior  love  to  the 
ennobling  love  of  God.  The  bride  says  that  she  was 
wounded  because  she  found  him  not ;  t  so  the  soul  also 
says  of  itself  that  it  is  wounded  with  love  and  forsaken  ; 
that  is,  the  loving  soul  is  ever  in  pain  during  the  absence 
of  the  Beloved,  because  it  has  given  itself  up  wholly  unto 
Him,  hoping  for  the  reward  of  its  self-surrender,  the 
possession  of  the  Beloved.  Still  the  Beloved  withholds 
Himself  while  the  soul  has  lost  all  things,  and  even  itself, 

*  Cant.  iii.  2,  v.  7.  t  lb.  v.  6,  7. 


32  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   II.] 

for  Him  ;    it  obtains  no  compensation  for  its  loss,  seeing 
that  it  is  deprived  of  Him  whom  it  loveth. 

28.  This  pain  and  sense  of  the  absence  of  God  is 
wont  to  be  so  oppressive  in  those  who  are  going  onwards 
to  the  state  of  perfection,  that  they  would  die  if  God  did 
not  interpose  when  the  divine  wounds  are  inflicted  upon 
them.  As  they  have  the  palate  of  the  will  wholesome, 
and  the  mind  pure  and  disposed  for  God,  and  as  they 
taste  in  some  degree  of  the  sweetness  of  divine  love, 
which  they  supremely  desire,  so  they  also  suffer  supremely ; 
for,  having  but  a  glimpse  of  an  infinite  good  which  they 
are  not  permitted  to  enjoy,  that  is  to  them  an  ineffable 
pain  and  torment. 


STANZA   II 

O  shepherds,  you  who  go 

Through  the  sheepcots  up  the  hill, 

If  you  shall  see 

Him  Whom  I  love. 

Tell  Him  I  languish,  suffer,  and  die. 

The  soul  would  now  employ  intercessors  and  mediators 
between  itself  and  the  Beloved,  praying  them  to  make  its 
sufferings  and  afflictions  known.  One  in  love,  when 
he  cannot  converse  personally  with  the  object  of  his  love, 
will  do  so  in  the  best  way  he  can.  Thus  the  soul  employs 
its  affections,  desires,  and  groanings  as  messengers  well 


I  STAN.    II.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  33 

able  to  manifest  the  secret  of  its  heart  to  the  Be- 
loved. Accordingly,  it  calls  upon  them  to  do  this, 
saying  : 

'  O  shepherds,  you  who  go.' 

2.  The  shepherds  are  the  affections,  and  desires,  and 
groanings  of  the  soul,  for  they  feed  it  with  spiritual  good 
things.  A  shepherd  is  one  who  feeds  :  and  by  means  of 
such  God  communicates  Himself  to  the  soul  and  feeds  it 
in  the  divine  pastures  ;  for  without  these  groans  and 
desires  He  communicates  but  slightly  with  it. 

'  You  who  go.' 

You  who  go  forth  in  pure  love  ;  for  all  desires  and  affec- 
tions do  not  reach  God,  but  only  those  which  proceed 
from  sincere  love. 

'  Through  the  sheepcots  up  the  hill.' 

3.  The  sheepcots  are  the  heavenly  hierarchies,  the 
angelic  choirs,  by  whose  ministry,  from  choir  to  choir, 
our  prayers  and  sighs  ascend  to  God  ;  that  is,  to  the 
*  hill,'  for  He  is  the  highest  eminence,  and  because  in 
Him,  as  on  a  hill,  we  observe  and  behold  all  things,  the 
higher  and  the  lower  sheepcots.  To  Him  our  prayers 
ascend,  offered  by  angels,  as  I  have  said  ;  so  the  angel 
said  to  Tobias  :    '  When  thou  didst  pray  with  tears,  and 

3 


34  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    II.] 

didst  bury  the  dead  ...   I  offered  thy  prayer  to  the 
Lord.'  * 

4.  The  shepherds  also  are  the  angels  themselves, 
who  not  only  carry  our  petitions  to  God,  but  also  bring 
down  the  graces  of  God  to  our  souls,  feeding  them  like 
good  shepherds  with  the  sweet  communications  and 
inspirations  of  God,  Who  employs  them  in  that  ministry. 
They  also  protect  us  and  defend  us  against  the  wolves, 
which  are  the  evil  spirits.  And  thus,  whether  we  under- 
stand the  affections  or  the  angels  by  the  shepherds, 
the  soul  calls  upon  both  to  be  its  messengers  to  the 
Beloved,  and  thus  addresses  them  all : 

'  If  you  shall  see  Him.' 

That  is  to  say  : 

5.  If,  to  my  great  happiness,  you  shall  come  into 
His  presence,  so  that  He  shall  see  you  and  hear  your 
words.  God,  indeed,  knoweth  all  things,  even  the  very 
thoughts  of  the  soul,  as  He  said  unto  Moses, f  but  it  is 
then  He  beholds  our  necessities  when  He  relieves  them, 
and  hears  our  prayers  when  He  grants  them.  God  does 
not  see  all  necessities  and  hear  all  petitions  until  the  time 
appointed  shall  have  come  ;  it  is  then  that  He  is  said  to 
hear  and  see,  as  we  learn  in  the  book  of  Exodus.  When 
the  children  of  Israel  had  been  afflicted  for  four  hundred 

*  Tob.  xii.   12.  I  Deut.  xxxi.  21. 


[STAN.    II.]      OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  35 

years  as  serfs  in  Egypt,  God  said  unto  Moses,  '  I  have 
seen  the  affliction  of  my  people  in  Egypt,  and  I  have 
heard  their  cry,  and  ...  I  am  come  down  to  dehver 
them.'  *  And  yet  He  had  seen  it  always.  So  also 
St.  Gabriel  bade  Zacharias  not  to  fear,  because  God  had 
heard  his  prayer,  and  would  grant  him  the  son,  for  whom 
he  had  been  praying  for  many  years  ;  f  yet  God  had 
always  heard  him.  Every  soul  ought  to  consider  that 
God,  though  He  does  not  at  once  help  us  and  grant  our 
petitions,  will  still  succour  us  in  His  own  time,  for  He  is, 
as  David  saith,  '  a  helper  in  due  time  in  tribulation,'  J  if 
we  do  not  become  faint-hearted  and  cease  to  pray.  This 
is  what  the  soul  means  by  saying,  '  If  you  shall  see  Him  '  ; 
that  is  to  say,  if  the  time  is  come  when  it  shall  be  His 
good  pleasure  to  grant  my  petitions. 

6.  'Whom  I  love  the  most':  that  is,  whom  I  love 
more  than  all  creatures.  This  is  true  of  the  soul  when 
nothing  can  make  it  afraid  to  do  and  suffer  all  things 
in  His  service.  And  when  the  soul  can  also  truly  say 
that  which  follows,  it  is  a  sign  that  it  loves  Him  above 
all  things  : 

'  Tell  Him  I  languish,  suffer,  and  die.' 

7.  Here  the  soul  speaks  of  three  things  that  distress 
it :    namely,  languor,  suffering,  and  death  ;  for  the  soul 

*  Exod.  iii.  7,  8.  f  St.  Luke  i.   13.  I  Ps.  ix.   10 


36  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    II.] 

that  truly  loves  God  with  a  love  in  some  degree  perfect, 
suffers  in  three  ways  in  His  absence,  in  its  three  powers 
ordinarily — the  understanding,  the  will,  and  the  memory. 
In  the  understanding  it  languishes  because  it  does  not 
see  God,  Who  is  the  salvation  of  it,  as  the  Psalmist  saith  : 
'  I  am  thy  salvation.'  *  In  the  will  it  suffers,  because 
it  possesses  not  God,  Who  is  its  comfort  and  delight, 
as  David  also  saith  :  '  Thou  shalt  make  them  drink  of 
the  torrent  of  Thy  pleasure.'  f  In  the  memory  it  dies, 
because  it  remembers  its  privation  of  all  the  blessings 
of  the  understanding,  which  are  the  vision  of  God,  and 
of  the  delights  of  the  will,  which  are  the  fruition  of  Him, 
and  that  it  is  very  possible  also  that  it  may  lose  Him  for 
ever,  because  of  the  dangers  and  chances  of  this  life. 
In  the  memory,  therefore,  the  soul  labours  under  a 
sensation  like  that  of  death,  because  it  sees  itself  without 
the  certain  and  perfect  fruition  of  God,  Who  is  the 
life  of  the  soul,  as  Moses  saith  :    '  He  is  thy  life.'  | 

8.  Jeremias  also,  in  the  Lamentations,  speaks  of  these 
three  things,  praying  unto  God,  and  saying  :  '  Remember 
my  poverty  .  .  .  the  wormwood  and  the  gall.'  §  Poverty 
relates  to  the  understanding,  to  which  appertain  the 
riches  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  '  in  whom 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  are  hid.'  || 

*  Ps.  xxxiv.  3.  t  lb.  XXXV.  9.  J  Deut.  xxx.  20. 

?  Lam.  iii.   19.  Col.  ii.  3. 


[STAN.  II.]        OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  37 

The  wormwood,  which  is  a  most  bitter  herb,  relates  to 
the  will,  to  which  appertains  the  sweetness  of  the  frui- 
tion of  God,  deprived  of  which  it  abides  in  bitterness. 
We  learn  in  the  Apocalypse  that  bitterness  appertains 
spiritually  to  the  will,  for  the  angel  said  to  St.  John  : 
'  Take  the  book  and  eat  it  up  ;  and  it  shall  make  thy 
belly  bitter.'  *  Here  the  belly  signifies  the  will.  The 
gall  relates  not  only  to  the  memory,  but  also  to  all  the 
powers  and  faculties  of  the  soul,  for  it  signifies  the  death 
thereof,  as  we  learn  from  Moses  speaking  of  the  damned  : 
'  Their  wine  is  the  gall  of  dragons,  and  the  venom  of  asps, 
which  is  incurable.'  f  This  signifies  the  loss  of  God, 
which  is  the  death  of  the  soul. 

9.  These  three  things  which  distress  the  soul  are 
grounded  on  the  three  theological  virtues — faith,  charity, 
and  hope,  which  relate,  in  the  order  here  assigned  them, 
to  the  three  faculties  of  the  soul — understanding,  will,  and 
memory.  Observe  here  that  the  soul  does  no  more  than 
represent  its  miseries  and  pain  to  the  Beloved  :  for  he 
who  loves  wisely  does  not  care  to  ask  for  that  which 
he  wants  and  desires,  being  satisfied  with  hinting  at 
his  necessities,  so  that  the  beloved  one  may  do  what 
shall  to  him  seem  good.  Thus  the  Blessed  Virgin  at  the 
marriage  feast  of  Cana  asked  not  directly  for  wine,  but 
only  said  to  her  beloved  Son,  *  They  have  no  wine.'  | 

*  Apoc.  X.  9.  f    Deut.  xxxii.  33.  J  St.  John  ii.  3. 


38  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    III.] 

The  sisters  of  Lazarus  sent  to  Him,  not  to  ask  Him  to 
heal  their  brother,  but  only  to  say  that  he  whom  He 
loved  was  sick  :  '  Lord,  behold,  he  whom  Thou  lovest 
is  sick.'  * 

10.  There  are  three  reasons  for  this.  Our  Lord  knows 
what  is  expedient  for  us  better  than  we  do  ourselves. 
Secondly,  the  Beloved  is  more  compassionate  towards 
us  when  He  sees  our  necessities  and  our  resignation. 
Thirdly,  we  are  more  secured  against  self-love  and  self- 
seeking  when  we  represent  our  necessity,  than  when 
we  ask  for  that  which  we  think  we  need.  It  is  in  this 
way  that  the  soul  represents  its  three  necessities  ;  as 
if  it  said  :  '  Tell  my  Beloved,  that  as  I  languish,  and 
as  He  only  is  my  salvation,  to  save  me  ;  that  as  I  am 
suffering,  and  as  He  only  is  my  joy,  to  give  me  joy  ; 
that  as  I  am  dying,  and  as  He  only  is  my  life,  to  give 
me  life.' 

STANZA    HI 

In  search  of  my  Love 

I  will  go  over  mountains  and  strands  ; 

I  will  gather  no  flowers, 

I  will  fear  no  wild  beasts  ; 

And  pass  by  the  mighty  and  the  frontiers. 

The  soul,  observing  that  its  sighs  and  prayers  suffice 
not  to  find  the  Beloved,  and  that  it  has  not  been  helped 

*  St.  John  xi.  3. 


[STAN.  III.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  39 

by  the  messengers  it  invoked  in  the  first  and  second 
stanzas,  will  not,  because  its  searching  is  real  and  its 
love  great,  leave  undone  anything  itself  can  do.  The 
soul  that  really  loves  God  is  not  dilatory  in  its  efforts 
to  find  the  Son  of  God,  its  Beloved  ;  and,  even  when  it 
has  done  all  it  could  it  is  still  not  satisfied,  thinking  it 
has  done  nothing.  Accordingly,  the  soul  is  now,  in 
this  third  stanza,  actively  seeking  the  Beloved,  and 
saying  how  He  is  to  be  found  ;  namely,  in  the  practice 
of  all  virtue  and  in  the  spiritual  exercises  of  the  active 
and  contemplative  life  ;  for  this  end  it  rejects  all  de- 
lights and  all  comforts  ;  and  all  the  power  and  wiles  of  its 
three  enemies,  the  world,  the  devil,  and  the  flesh,  are 
unable  to  delay  it  or  hinder  it  on  the  road. 

'  In  search  of  my  Love.' 

2.  Here  the  soul  makes  it  known  that  to  find  God 
it  is  not  enough  to  pray  with  the  heart  and  the  tongue, 
or  to  have  recourse  to  the  help  of  others  ;  we  must 
also  work  ourselves,  according  to  our  power.  God 
values  one  effort  of  our  own  more  than  many  of  others 
on  our  behalf ;  the  soul,  therefore,  remembering  the 
saying  of  the  Beloved,  '  Seek  and  you  shall  find,'  * 
is  resolved  on  going  forth,  as  I  said  just  now,  to  seek 
Him  actively,  and  not  rest  till  it  finds  Him,  as  many 

*  St    Luke  xi.  9. 


40  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    III.] 

do  who  will  not  that  God  should  cost  them  anything 
but  words,  and  even  those  carelessly  uttered,  and  for 
His  sake  will  do  nothing  that  will  cost  them  anything. 
Some,  too,  will  not  leave  for  His  sake  a  place  which 
is  to  their  taste  and  liking,  expecting  to  receive  all  the 
sweetness  of  God  in  their  mouth  and  in  their  heart 
without  moving  a  step,  without  mortifying  themselves 
by  the  abandonment  of  a  single  pleasure  or  useless 
comfort. 

3.  But  until  they  go  forth  out  of  themselves  to  seek 
Him,  however  loudly  they  may  cry  they  will  not  find 
Him  ;  for  the  bride  in  the  Canticle  sought  Him  in  this 
way,  but  she  found  Him  not  until  she  went  out  to  seek 
Him :  '  In  my  little  bed  in  the  nights  I  have  sought 
Him  Whom  my  soul  loveth  :  I  have  sought  Him  and 
have  not  found  Him.  I  will  rise  and  will  go  about  the 
city  :  by  the  streets  and  highways  I  will  seek  Him  Whom 
my  soul  loveth.'  *  She  afterwards  adds  that  when  she 
had  endured  certain  trials  she  '  found  Him.'  f 

4.  He,  therefore,  who  seeks  God,  consulting  his  own 
ease  and  comfort,  seeks  Him  by  night,  and  therefore 
finds  Him  not.  But  he  who  seeks  Him  in  the  practice 
of  virtue  and  of  good  works,  casting  aside  the  comforts 
of  his  own  bed,  seeks  Him  by  day  ;  such  an  one  shall 
find  Him,  for  that  which  is  not  seen  by  night  is  visible 

*  Cant.   iii.    i.  f  lb.  iii.   4. 


[STAN.  III.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  4I 

by  day.  The  Bridegroom  Himself  teaches  us  this, 
saying,  '  Wisdom  is  clear  and  never  fadeth  away,  and 
is  easily  seen  of  them  that  love  her,  and  is  found  of 
them  that  seek  her.  She  preventeth  them  that  covet 
her,  that  she  first  may  show  herself  unto  them.  He 
that  awaketh  early  to  seek  her  shall  not  labour  ;  for 
he  shall  find  her  sitting  at  his  doors.'  *  The  soul  that 
will  go  out  of  the  house  of  its  own  will,  and  abandon 
the  bed  of  its  own  satisfaction,  will  find  the  divine  Wis- 
dom, the  Son  of  God,  the  Bridegroom  waiting  at  the  door 
without,  and  so  the  soul  says  : 

'  I  will  go  over  mountains  and  strands.' 

5.  Mountains,  which  are  lofty,  signify  virtues,  partly 
on  account  of  their  height  and  partly  on  account  of  the 
toil  and  labour  of  ascending  them  ;  the  soul  says  it  will 
ascend  to  them  in  the  practice  of  the  contemplative 
life.  Strands,  which  are  low,  signify  mortifications, 
penances,  and  the  spiritual  exercises,  and  the  soul  will 
add  to  the  active  life  that  of  contemplation  ;  for  both 
are  necessary  in  seeking  after  God  and  in  acquiring 
virtue.  The  soul  says,  in  effect,  '  In  searching  after  my 
Beloved  I  will  practise  great  virtue,  and  abase  myself 
by  lowly  mortifications  and  acts  of  humility  ;  for  the 
way  to  seek  God  is  to  do  good  works  in  Him,  and  to 

*  Wisd,  vi.   13. 


42  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    III.] 

mortify  the  evil  in  ourselves,  as  it  is  said  in  the  words 
that  follow : 

'  I  will  gather  no  flowers.' 

6.  He  that  will  seek  after  God  must  have  his  heart 
detached,  resolute,  and  free  from  all  evils,  and  from  all 
goods  which  are  not  simply  God  ;  that  is  the  meaning 
of  these  words.  The  words  that  follow  describe  the 
liberty  and  courage  which  the  soul  must  possess  in  search- 
ing after  God.  Here  it  declares  that  it  will  gather  no 
flowers  by  the  way — the  flowers  are  all  the  delights, 
satisfactions,  and  pleasures  which  this  life  offers,  and 
which,  if  the  soul  sought  or  accepted,  would  hinder 
it  on  the  road. 

7.  These  flowers  are  of  three  kinds — temporal,  sensual, 
and  spiritual.  All  of  them  occupy  the  heart,  and  stand 
in  the  way  of  the  spiritual  detachment  required  in  the 
way  of  Christ,  if  we  regard  them  or  rest  in  them.  The 
soul,  therefore,  says,  that  it  will  not  stop  to  gather 
any  of  them,  that  it  may  seek  after  God.  It  seems 
to  say,  I  will  not  set  my  heart  upon  riches  or  the  goods 
of  this  world  ;  I  will  not  indulge  in  the  satisfactions 
and  ease  of  the  flesh,  neither  will  I  consult  the  taste 
and  comforts  of  my  spirit,  in  order  that  nothing  may 
detain  me  in  my  search  after  my  Love  on  the  toilsome 
mountains  of  virtue.  This  means  that  it  accepts  the 
counsel  of  the  prophet  David  to  those  who  travel  on 


[STAN.  III.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  43 

this  road  :  '  If  riches  abound,  set  not  your  heart  upon 
them.'  *  This  is  apphcable  to  sensual  satisfactions, 
as  well  as  to  temporal  goods  and  spiritual  consolations. 

8.  From  this  we  learn  that  not  only  temporal  goods 
and  bodily  pleasures  hinder  us  on  the  road  to  God, 
but  spiritual  delight  and  consolations  also,  if  we  attach 
ourselves  to  them  or  seek  them  ;  for  these  things  are 
hindrances  on  the  way  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  the  Bride- 
groom. He,  therefore,  that  will  go  onwards  must  not 
only  not  stop  to  gather  flowers,  but  must  also  have 
the  courage  and  resolution  to  say  as  follows  : 

*  I  will  fear  no  wild  beasts  ;    and  I  will  go  over 
the  mighty  and  the  frontiers.' 

Here  we  have  the  three  enemies  of  the  soul  which  make 
war  against  it,  and  make  its  way  full  of  difficulties. 
The  wild  beasts  are  the  world ;  the  mighty,  the  devil  ; 
and  the  frontiers  are  the  flesh. 

9.  The  world  is  the  wild  beasts,  because  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  heavenly  journey  the  imagination  pictures 
the  world  to  the  soul  as  wild  beasts,  threatening  and 
fierce,  principally  in  three  ways.  The  first  is,  we  must 
forfeit  the  world's  favour,  lose  friends,  credit,  reputation, 
and  property  ;  the  second  is  not  less  cruel :  we  must 
suffer   the    perpetual    deprivation   of   all   the   comforts 

*  Ps.  Ixi.   II. 


44  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    III.] 

and  pleasures  of  the  world  ;  and  the  third  is  still  worse  : 
evil  tongues  will  rise  against  us,  mock  us,  and  speak 
of  us  with  contempt.  This  strikes  some  persons  so 
vividly  that  it  becomes  most  difficult  for  them,  I  do  not 
say  to  persevere,  but  even  to  enter  on  this  road  at  all. 

10.  But  there  are  generous  souls  who  have  to  encounter 
wild  beasts  of  a  more  interior  and  spiritual  nature — 
trials,  temptations,  tribulations,  and  afflictions  of  divers 
kinds,  through  which  they  must  pass.  This  is  what 
God  sends  to  those  whom  He  is  raising  upwards  to 
high  perfection,  proving  them  and  trying  them  as  gold 
in  the  fire  ;  as  David  saith  :  '  Many  are  the  tribulations 
of  the  just  ;  and  out  of  all  these  our  Lord  will  deliver 
them.'  *  But  the  truly  enamoured  soul,  preferring  the 
Beloved  above  all  things,  and  relying  on  His  love  and 
favour,  finds  no  difficulty  in  saying  : 

'  I  will  fear  no  wild  beasts.' 
'  And  pass  over  the  mighty  and  the  frontiers.' 

11.  Evil  spirits,  the  second  enemy  of  the  soul,  are 
called  the  mighty,  because  they  strive  with  all  their 
might  to  seize  on  the  passes  of  the  spiritual  road  ;  and 
because  the  temptations  they  suggest  are  harder  to 
overcome,  and  the  craft  they  employ  more  difficult 
to  detect,  than  all  the  seductions  of  the  world  and  the 

*  Ps.  xxxiii.  20. 


[STAN.  III.]     OF   THE   SOUL  AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  45 

flesh  ;  and  because,  also,  they  strengthen  their  own 
position  by  the  help  of  the  world  and  the  flesh  in  order 
to  fight  vigorously  against  the  soul.  Hence  the  Psalmist 
calls  them  mighty,  saying  :  '  The  mighty  have  sought 
after  my  soul.'  *  The  prophet  Job  also  speaks  of 
their  might  :  '  There  is  no  power  upon  the  earth  that 
may  be  compared  with  him  who  was  made  to  fear  no 
man.'  f 

12.  There  is  no  human  power  that  can  be  compared 
with  the  power  of  the  devil,  and  therefore  the  divine 
power  alone  can  overcome  him,  and  the  divine  light 
alone  can  penetrate  his  devices.  No  soul  therefore  can 
overcome  his  might  without  prayer,  or  detect  his  illu- 
sions without  humility  and  mortification.  Hence  the 
exhortation  of  St.  Paul  to  the  faithful :  '  Put  you  on  the 
armour  of  God,  that  you  may  stand  against  the  deceits 
of  the  devil :  for  our  wrestling  is  not  against  flesh  and 
blood.'  X  Blood  here  is  the  world,  and  the  armour  of 
God  is  prayer  and  the  cross  of  Christ,  wherein  consist 
the  humility  and  mortification  of  which  I  have  spoken. 

13.  The  soul  says  also  that  it  will  cross  the  frontiers  : 
these  are  the  natural  resistance  and  rebellion  of  the  flesh 
against  the  spirit,  for,  as  St.  Paul  saith,  the  '  flesh  lusteth 
against  the  spirit,'  §  and  sets  itself  as  a  frontier  against 
the  soul  on  its  spiritual  road.     This  frontier  the  soul 

*  Ps.  liii.  5.        t   Job  xli.  24.        J  Eph.  vi.   11,       §  Gal.  v.  17. 


46  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    IV.] 

must  cross,  surmounting  difficulties,  and  trampling  under- 
foot all  sensual  appetites  and  all  natural  affections  with 
great  courage  and  resolution  of  spirit  :  for  while  they 
remain  in  the  soul,  the  spirit  will  be  by  them  hindered 
from  advancing  to  the  true  life  and  spiritual  delight. 
This  is  set  clearly  before  us  by  St.  Paul,  saying  :  '  If 
by  the  spirit  you  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  flesh,  you 
shall  live.'  *  This,  then,  is  the  process  which  the  soul 
in  this  stanza  says  it  becomes  it  to  observe  on  the  way 
to  seek  the  Beloved  :  which  briefly  is  a  firm  resolution 
not  to  stoop  to  gather  flowers  by  the  way  ;  courage  not 
to  fear  the  wild  beasts,  and  strength  to  pass  by  the 
mighty  and  the  frontiers  ;  intent  solely  on  going  over 
the  mountains  and  the  strands  of  the  virtues,  in  the 
way  just  explained. 


STANZA    IV 

O  groves  and  thickets. 

Planted  by  the  hand  of  the  Beloved. 

O  verdant  meads 

Enamelled  with  flowers. 

Tell  me,  has  He  passed  by  you  ? 

The  disposition  requisite  for  entering  on  the  spiritual 
journey,  abstinence  from  joys  and  pleasure,  being  now 
described  ;   and  the  courage  also  with  which  to  overcome 

*  Rom.  viii.   13. 


[STAN.  IV.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  47 

temptations  and  trials,  wherein  consists  the  practice  of 
self-knowledge,  which  is  the  first  step  of  the  soul  to  the 
knowledge  of  God.  Now,  in  this  stanza  the  soul  begins 
to  advance  through  consideration  and  knowledge  of 
creatures  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Beloved  their  Creator. 
For  the  consideration  of  the  creature,  after  the  practice 
of  self-knowledge,  is  the  first  in  order  on  the  spiritual 
road  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  Whose  grandeur  and 
magnificence  they  declare,  as  the  Apostle  saith  :  '  For 
His  invisible  things  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
are  seen,  being  understood  by  these  things  that  are 
made.'  *  It  is  as  if  he  said,  '  The  invisible  things  of 
God  are  made  known  to  the  soul  by  created  things, 
visible  and  invisible.' 

2.  The  soul,  then,  in  this  stanza  addresses  itself  to 
creatures  inquiring  after  the  Beloved,  And  we  observe, 
as  St.  Augustine  t  says,  that  the  inquiry  made  of  creatures 
is  a  meditation  on  the  Creator,  for  which  they  furnish  the 
matter.  Thus,  in  this  stanza  the  soul  meditates  on  the 
elements  and  the  rest  of  the  lower  creation  ;  on  the 
heavens,  and  on  the  rest  of  created  and  material  things 
which  God  has  made  therein  ;  also  on  the  heavenly 
spirits,   saying  : 

*  O  groves  and  thickets.' 

*  Rom.  i.  20.  t  Conf.  x.  6. 


48  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    IV.] 

3.  The  groves  are  the  elements,  earth,  water,  air,  and 
fire.  As  the  most  pleasant  groves  are  studded  with  plants 
and  shrubs,  so  the  elements  are  thick  with  creatures,  and 
here  are  called  thickets  because  of  the  number  and  variety 
of  creatures  in  each.  The  earth  contains  innumerable 
varieties  of  animals  and  plants,  the  water  of  fish,  the  air 
of  birds,  and  fire  concurs  with  all  in  animating  and 
sustaining  them.  Each  kind  of  animal  lives  in  its  proper 
element,  placed  and  planted  there,  as  in  its  o\\ti  grove 
and  soil  where  it  is  born  and  nourished  ;  and,  in  truth, 
God  so  ordered  it  when  He  made  them  ;  He  commanded 
the  earth  to  bring  forth  herbs  and  animals  ;  the  waters 
and  the  sea,  fish  ;  and  the  air  He  gave  as  an  habitation  to 
birds.  The  soul,  therefore,  considering  that  this  is  the 
effect  of  His  commandment,  cries  out, 

*  Planted  by  the  hand  of  the  Beloved.' 

4.  That  which  the  soul  considers  now  is  this  :  the 
hand  of  God  the  Beloved  only  could  have  created  and 
nurtured  all  these  varieties  and  wonderful  things.  The 
soul  says  deliberately,  '  by  the  hand  of  the  Beloved,' 
because  God  doeth  many  things  by  the  hands  of  others, 
as  of  angels  and  men  ;  but  the  work  of  creation  has  never 
been,  and  never  is,  the  work  of  any  other  hand  than 
His  own.  Thus  the  soul,  considering  +he  creaton,  is 
profoundly  stirred  up  to  love  God  the  Beloved    for  it 


[STAN.  IV.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  49 

beholds  all  things  to  be  the  work  of  His  hands,  and  goes 
on  to  say  : 

'  O  verdant  meads.' 

5.  These  are  the  heavens  ;  for  the  things  which  He 
hath  created  in  the  heavens  are  of  incorruptible  freshness, 
which  neither  perish  nor  wither  \vith  time,  where  the  just 
are  refreshed  as  in  the  green  pastures.  The  present 
consideration  includes  all  the  varieties  of  the  stars  in 
their  beauty,  and  the  other  works  in  the  heavens. 

6.  The  Church  also  applies  the  term  '  verdure  '  to 
heavenly  things  ;  for  while  praying  to  God  for  the 
departing  soul,  it  addresses  it  as  follows  :  '  May  Christ, 
the  Son  of  the  living  God,  give  thee  a  place  in  the  ever- 
pleasant  verdure  of  His  paradise.'  *  The  soul  also  says 
that  this  verdant  mead  is 

'  Enamelled  with  flowers.' 

7.  The  flowers  are  the  angels  and  the  holy  souls  who 
adorn  and  beautify  that  place,  as  costly  and  fine  enamel 
on  a  vase  of  pure  gold. 

'  Tell  me,  has  He  passed  by  you  ?  ' 

8.  This  inquiry  is  the  consideration  of  the  creature 
just  spoken  of,  and  is  in  effect :  Tell  me,  what  perfections 
has  He  created  in  you  ? 

*  Ordo  commendationis  animje. 


50  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   V.] 

STANZA   V 

ANSWER    OF    THE    CREATURES 

A  thousand  graces  diffusing. 
He  passed  the  groves  in  haste, 
And  merely  regarding  them 
As  He  passed. 
Clothed  them  with  His  beauty. 

This  is  the  answer  of  the  creatures  to  the  soul  which, 
according  to  St.  Augustine,  in  the  same  place,  is  the 
testimony  which  they  furnish  to  the  majesty  and  per- 
fections of  God,  for  which  it  asked  in  its  meditation 
on  created  things.  The  meaning  of  this  stanza  is,  in 
substance,  as  follows  :  God  created  all  things  with  great 
ease  and  rapidity,  and  left  in  them  some  tokens  of  Him- 
self, not  only  by  creating  them  out  of  nothing,  but  also 
by  endowing  them  with  innumerable  graces  and  qualities, 
making  them  beautiful  in  admirable  order  and  unceasing 
mutual  dependence.  All  this  He  wrought  in  wisdom, 
by  which  He  created  them,  which  is  the  Word,  His  only 
begotten  Son.     Then  the  soul  says  : 

'  A  thousand  graces  diffusing.' 

2.  These  graces  are  the  innumerable  multitude  of 
His  creatures.  The  term  '  thousand,'  which  the  soul 
makes  use  of,  denotes  not  their  number,  but  the  im- 
possibility of  numbering  them.     They  are  called  graces, 


[STAN,  v.]      OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  51 

because  of  the  qualities  with  which  He  has  endowed 
them.  He  is-  said  to  diffuse  them  because  He  fills  the 
whole  world  with  them. 

'  He  passed  through  the  groves  in  haste.' 

3.  To  pass  through  the  groves  is  to  create  the 
elements  ;  here  called  groves,  through  which  He  is  said 
to  pass,  diffusing  a  thousand  graces,  because  He  adorned 
them  with  creatures  which  are  all  beautiful.  Moreover, 
He  diffused  among  them  a  thousand  graces,  giving  the 
power  of  generation  and  self-conservation.  He  is  said  to 
pass  through,  because  the  creatures  are,  as  it  were,  traces 
of  the  passage  of  God,  revealing  His  majesty,  power,  and 
wisdom,  and  His  other  divine  attributes.  He  is  said  to 
pass  in  haste,  because  the  creatures  are  the  least  of  the 
works  of  God  :  He  made  them,  as  it  were,  in  passing. 
His  greatest  works,  wherein  He  is  most  visible  and  at 
rest,  are  the  incarnation  of  the  Word  and  the  mysteries 
of  the  Christian  faith,  in  comparison  with  which  all  His 
other  works  were  works  wrought  in  passing  and  in  haste. 

'  And  thereby  regarding  them 
As  He  passed. 
Clothed  them  with  His  beauty.' 

4.  The  Son  of  God  is,  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  the 
'  brightness  of  His  glory  and  the  figure  of  His  substance.'  * 

*  Heb.  i.  3. 


52  A   SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE  [STAN.   V.] 

God  saw  all  things  only  in  the  face  of  His  Son.  This 
was  to  give  them  their  natural  being,  bestowing  upon 
them  many  graces  and  natural  gifts,  making  them  perfect, 
as  it  is  written  in  the  book  of  Genesis :  '  God  saw  all  the 
things  that  He  had  made  :  and  they  were  very  good.'  * 
To  see  all  things  very  good  was  to  make  them  very  good 
in  the  Word,  His  Son.  He  not  only  gave  them  their 
being  and  their  natural  graces  when  He  beheld  them,  but 
He  also  clothed  them  with  beauty  in  the  face  of  His  Son, 
commun'cating  to  them  a  supernatural  being  when  He 
made  man,  and  exalted  him  to  the  beauty  of  God,  and, 
by  consequence,  all  creatures  in  him,  because  He  united 
Himself  to  the  nature  of  them  all  in  man.  For  this 
cause  the  Son  of  God  Himself  said,  '  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted 
up  from  the  earth  will  draw  all  things  to  Myself.'  f  And 
thus  in  this  exaltation  of  the  incarnation  of  His  Son,  and 
the  glory  of  His  resurrection  according  to  the  flesh,  the 
Father  not  only  made  all  things  beautiful  in  part,  but 
also,  we  may  well  say,  clothed  them  wholly  with  beauty 
and  dignity. 

NOTE 

But  beyond  all  this — speaking  now  of  contemplation  as  it 
affects  the  soul  and  makes  an  impression  on  it — in  the 
vivid  contemplatioTj  and  knowledge   of    created  things 

*  Gen.  i.  31.  t  St.  John  xii.  32. 


[STAN.  VI.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  53 

the  soul  beholds  such  a  multipLcity  of  graces,  powers, 
and  beauty  wherewith  God  has  endowed  them,  that  they 
seem  to  it  to  be  clothed  with  admirable  beauty  and 
supernatural  vrtue  derived  from  the  infinite  super- 
natural beauty  of  the  face  of  God,  Whose  beholding  of 
them  clothed  the  heavens  and  the  earth  with  beauty 
and  joy  ;  as  it  is  written  :  '  Thou  openest  Thy  hand  and 
fillest  with  blessing  every  living  creature.'  *  Hence  the 
soul  wounded  with  love  of  that  beauty  of  the  Beloved 
which  it  traces  in  created  things,  and  anxious  to  behold 
that  beauty  which  is  the  source  of  this  visible  beauty, 
sings  as  in  the  following  stanza  : 


STANZA    VI 

THE    BRIDE 

Oh,  who  can  heal  me  ? 

Give  me  perfectly  Thyself, 

Send  me  no  mere 

A  messenger 

Who  cannot  tell  me  what  1  wish. 

As  created  things  furnish  to  the  soul  traces  of  the 
Beloved,  and  exhibit  the  impress  of  His  beauty  and 
magnificence,  the  love  of  the  soul  increases,  and  con- 
sequently the  pain  of  His  absence  :  for  the  greater  the 
soul's  knowledge  of  God  the  greater  its  desire  to  see  Him, 

*  Ps.  cxliv.  16. 


54  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   VI.] 

and  its  pain  when  it  cannot  ;  and  as  it  sees  there  is  no 
remedy  for  this  pain  except  in  the  presence  and  vision  of 
the  Beloved,  distrustful  of  every  other  remedy,  it  prays 
in  this  stanza  for  the  fruition  of  His  presence,  saying  : 
'  Entertain  me  no  more  with  any  knowledge  or  communica- 
tions or  impressions  of  Thy  grandeur,  for  these  do  but 
increase  my  longing  and  the  pain  of  Thy  absence  ;  Thy 
presence  alone  can  satisfy  my  will  and  desire.'  The  will 
cannot  be  satisfied  with  anything  less  than  the  vision  of 
God,  and  therefore  the  soul  prays  that  He  may  be  pleased 
to  give  Himself  to  it  in  truth,  in  perfect  love. 

'  Oh  !    who  can  heal  me  ?  ' 

2.  That  is,  there  is  nothing  in  all  the  delights  of  the 
world,  nothing  in  the  satisfaction  of  the  senses,  nothing 
in  the  sweet  taste  of  the  .spirit  that  can  heal  or  content  me, 
and  therefore  it  adds  : 

'  Give  me  at  once  Thyself.' 

3.  No  soul  that  really  loves  can  be  satisfied  or  content 
short  of  the  fruition  of  God.  For  everything  else,  as  I 
have  just  said,  not  only  does  not  satisfy  the  soul,  but 
rather  increases  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  seeing  Him  as 
He  is.  Thus  every  glimpse  of  the  Beloved,  every  know- 
ledge and  impress" on  or  communication  from  Him — these 
are    the   messengers    suggestive    of   Him — increase    and 


[STAN.  VI.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  55 

quicken  the  soul's  desire  after  Him,  as  crumbs  of  food 
in  hunger  stimulate  the  appetite.  The  soul,  therefore, 
mourning  over  the  misery  of  being  entertained  by  matters 
of  so  little  moment,  cries  out  : 

'  Give  me  perfectly  Thyself.' 

4.  Now  all  our  knowledge  of  God  in  this  life,  how 
great  soever  it  may  be,  is  not  a  perfectly  true  knowledge 
of  Him,  because  it  is  partial  and  incomplete  ;  but  to 
know  Him  essentially  is  true  knowledge,  and  that  is  it 
which  the  soul  prays  for  here,  not  satisfied  with  any 
other  kind.     Hence  it  says  : 

'  Send  me  no  more  a  messenger.' 

5.  That  is,  grant  that  I  may  no  longer  know  Thee  in 
this  imperfect  way  by  the  messengers  of  knowledge  and 
impressions,  which  are  so  distant  from  that  which  my 
soul  desires  ;  for  these  messengers,  as  Thou  well  knowest, 
O  my  Bridegroom,  do  but  increase  the  pain  of  Thy 
absence.  They  renew  the  wound  which  Thou  hast 
inflicted  by  the  knowledge  of  Thee  which  they  convey, 
and  they  seem  to  delay  Thy  coming.  Henceforth  do 
Thou  send  me  no  more  of  these  inadequate  communica- 
tions, for  if  I  have  been  hitherto  satisfied  with  them,  it 
was  owing  to  the  slightness  of  my  knowledge  and  of  my 
love  :    now  that  my  love  has  become  great,   I  cannot 


56  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  VI.] 

satisfy  myself  with  them  ;  do  Thou,  therefore,  give  me  at 
once  Thyself. 

6.  This,  more  clearly  expressed,  is  as  follows  :  '  O  Lord, 
my  Bridegroom,  Who  didst  give  me  Thyself  partially 
before,  give  me  Thyself  wholly  now.  Thou  who  didst 
show  glimpses  of  Thyself  before,  show  Thyself  clearly 
now.  Thou  who  didst  communicate  Thyself  hitherto  by 
the  instrumentahty  of  messengers — it  was  as  if  Thou 
didst  mock  me — give  Thyself  by  Thyself  now.  Some- 
times when  Thou  didst  visit  me  Thou  didst  give  me  the 
pearl  of  Thy  possession,  and,  when  I  began  to  examine  it, 
lo,  it  was  gone,  for  Thou  hadst  hidden  it  Thyself  :  it  was 
like  a  mockery.  Give  me  then  Thyself  in  truth,  Thy 
whole  self,  that  I  may  have  Thee  wholly  to  myself  wholly, 
and  send  me  no  messengers  again.' 

'  Who  cannot  tell  me  what  I  wish.' 

7.  '  I  wish  for  Thee  wholly,  and  Thy  messengers  neither 
know  Thee  wholly,  nor  can  they  speak  of  Thee  wholly, 
for  there  is  nothing  in  earth  or  heaven  that  can  furnish 
that  knowledge  to  the  soul  which  it  longs  for.  They 
cannot  tell  me,  therefore,  what  I  wish.  Instead,  then, 
of  these  messengers,  be  Thou  the  messenger  and  the 
message.' 


[STAN.   VII]      OF   THE   SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  57 

STANZA   VII 

A II  they  who  serve  are  telling  me 

Of  Thy  unnumbered  graces  ; 

And  all  wound  me  more  and  more 

And  something  leaves  me  dying,  I  know  not  what. 

Of  which  they  are  darkly  speaking. 

The  soul  describes  itself  in  the  foregoing  stanza  as 
wounded,  or  sick  with  love  of  the  Bridegroom,  because 
of  the  knowledge  of  Him  which  the  irrational  creation 
supplies,  and  in  the  present,  as  wounded  with  love 
because  of  the  other  and  higher  knowledge  which  it 
derives  from  the  rational  creation,  nobler  than  the 
former  ;  that  is,  angels  and  men.  This  is  not  all,  for 
the  soul  says  also  that  it  is  dying  of  love,  because  of 
that  marveJous  immensity  not  wholly  but  partially 
revealed  to  it  through  the  rational  creation.  This  it 
calls  '  I  know  not  what,'  because  it  cannot  be  described, 
and  because  it  is  such  that  the  soul  dies  of  it. 

2.  It  seems,  from  this,  that  there  are  three  kinds  of 
pain  in  the  soul's  love  of  the  Beloved,  corresponding  to 
the  three  kinds  of  knowledge  that  can  be  had  of  Him. 
The  first  is  called  a  wound  ;  not  deep,  but  slight,  like  a 
wound  which  heals  quickly,  because  it  comes  from  its 
knowledge  of  the  creatures,  which  are  the  lowest  works 
of  God.  This  wounding  of  the  soul,  called  also  sickness, 
is  thus  spoken  of  by  the  bride  in  the  Canticle  :   '  I  adjure 


58  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    VII.] 

you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  if  you  find  my  Beloved, 
that  you  tell  Him  that  I  languish  with  love.'*  The 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  the  creatures. 

3.  The  second  is  called  a  sore  which  enters  deeper 
than  a  wound  into  the  soul,  and  is,  therefore,  of  longer 
continuance,  because  it  is  as  a  wound  festering,  on 
account  of  which  the  soul  feels  that  it  is  really  dying  of 
love.  This  sore  is  the  effect  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
works  of  God,  the  incarnation  of  the  Word,  and  the 
mysteries  of  the  faith.  These  being  the  greatest  works 
of  God,  and  involving  a  greater  love  than  those  of 
creation,  produce  a  greater  effect  of  love  in  the  soul.  If 
the  first  kind  of  pain  be  as  a  wound,  this  must  be  like 
a  festering,  continuous  sore.  Of  this  speaks  the  Bride- 
groom, addressing  Himself  to  the  bride,  saying  :  '  Thou 
hast  wounded  my  heart,  my  sister,  my  bride  ;  thou  hast 
wounded  my  heart  with  one  of  thy  eyes,  and  with  one  hair 
of  thy  neck.'  f  The  eye  signifies  faith  in  the  incarnation  of 
the  Bridegroom,  and  the  one  hair  is  the  love  of  the  same. 

4.  The  third  kind  of  pain  is  like  dying  ;  it  is  as  if 
the  whole  soul  were  festering  because  of  its  wound.  It 
is  dying  a  living  death  until  love,  having  slain  it,  shall 
make  it  live  the  life  of  love,  transforming  it  in  love. 
This  dying  of  love  is  effected  by  a  single  touch  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  Divinity  ;   it  is  the  '  I  know  not  what,' 

*  Cant.  T.  8.  f  lb.  iv.  9, 


[STAN.  VII.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  59 

of  which  the  creatures,  as  in  the  stanza  is  said,  are  speaking 
indistinctly.  This  touch  is  not  continuous  nor  great, — 
for  then  soul  and  body  would  part — but  soon  over,  and 
thus  the  soul  is  dying  of  love,  and  dying  the  more  when 
it  sees  that  it  cannot  die  of  love.*  This  is  called  im- 
patient love,  which  is  spoken  of  in  the  book  of  Genesis, 
where  the  Scripture  saith  that  Rachel's  love  of  children 
was  so  great  that  she  said  to  Jacob  her  husband,  '  Give 
me  children,  otherwise  I  shall  die.'  f  And  the  prophet 
Job  said,  '  Who  will  grant  that  .  .  .  He  that  hath  begun 
the  same  would  cut  me  off.'  J 

5.  These  two-fold  pains  of  love — that  is,  the  wound 
and  the  dying — are  in  the  stanza  said  to  be  merely  the 
rational  creation.  The  wound,  when  it  speaks  of  the 
unnumbered  graces  of  the  Beloved  in  the  mysteries  and 
wisdom  of  God  taught  by  the  faith.  The  dying,  when  it 
is  said  that  the  rational  creation  speaks  indistinctly.  This  is 
a  sense  and  knowledge  of  the  Divinity  sometimes  revealed 
when  the  soul  hears  God  spoken  of.    Therefore  it  says  : 

'  All  they  who  serve.' 

6.  That  is,  the  rational  creation,  angels  and  men  ; 
for  these  alone  are  they  who  serve  God,  understanding 
by  that  word  intelligent  service ;  that  is  to  say,  all 
they  who  serve  God.    Some  serve  Him  by  contemplation 

*  See  '  Living  Flame,'  stanza  iii.  line  3,  §  20.  j  Gen.  xxx,  i. 

J  Job  vi.  8,  9. 


60  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    VII.] 

and  fruition  in  heaven — these  are  the  angels  ;  others 
by  loving  and  longing  for  Him  on  earth — these  are 
men.  And  because  the  soul  learns  to  know  God  more 
distinctly  through  the  rational  creation,  whether  by 
considering  its  superiority  over  the  rest  of  creation,  or 
by  what  it  teaches  us  of  God — the  angels  interiorly  by 
secret  inspirations,  and  men  exteriorly  by  the  truths 
of  Scripture — it  says  : 

'  Telling  me  of  Thy  unnumbered  graces.' 

7.  That  is,  they  speak  of  the  wonders  of  Thy  grace 
and  mercy  in  the  Incarnation,  and  in  the  truths  of  the 
faith  which  they  show  forth  and  are  ever  telling  more 
distinctly  ;  for  the  more  they  say,  the  more  do  they 
reveal  Thy  graces. 

'  And  all  wound  me  more  and  more.' 

8.  The  more  the  angels  inspire  me,  the  more  men 
teach  me,  the  more  do  I  love  Thee  ;  and  thus  all  wound 
me  more  and  more  with  love. 

'  And  something  'eaves  me  dying, 
I  know  not  what,  of  which  they  are  darkly  speaking.' 

9.  It  is  as  if  it  said  :  '  But  beside  the  wound  which 
the  creatures  inflict  when  they  tell  me  of  Thy  unnumbered 
graces,  there  is  yet  something  which  remains  to  be  told, 
one  thing  unknown  to  be  uttered,  a  most  clear  trace  of 


[STAN.  Vir.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  6r 

the  footsteps  of  God  revealed  to  the  soul,  which  it  should 
follow,  a  most  profound  knowledge  of  God,  which  is 
ineffable,  and  therefore  spoken  of  as  '  I  know  not  what.' 
If  that  which  I  comprehend  inflicts  the  wound  and 
festering  sore  of  love,  that  which  I  cannot  comprehend 
but  yet  feel  profoundly,  kills  me. 

10.  This  happens  occasionally  to  souls  advanced, 
whom  God  favours  in  what  they  hear,  or  see,  or  under- 
stand— and  sometimes  without  these  or  other  means — 
with  a  certain  profound  knowledge,  in  which  they  feel 
or  apprehend  the  greatness  and  majesty  of  God.  In 
this  state  they  think  so  highly  of  God  as  to  see  clearly 
that  they  know  Him  not,  and  in  their  perception  of  His 
greatness  they  recognise  that  not  to  comprehend  Him 
is  the  highest  comprehension.  And  thus,  one  of  the 
greatest  favours  of  God,  bestowed  transiently  on  the 
soul  in  this  life,  is  to  enable  it  to  see  so  distinctly,  and  to 
feel  so  profoundly,  that  it  clearly  understands  it  cannot 
comprehend  Him  at  all.  These  souls  are  herein,  in  some 
degree,  like  the  saints  in  heaven,  where  they  who  know 
Him  most  perfectly  perceive  most  clearly  that  He  is 
infinitely  incomprehensible,  for  those  who  have  the  less 
clear  vision,  do  not  perceive  so  distinctly  as  the  others, 
how  greatly  He  transcends  their  vision.  This  is  clear 
to  none  who  have  not  had  experience  of  it.  But  the 
experienced  soul,  comprehending  that  there  is  something 


62  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   VIII.] 

further  of  which  it  is  profoundly  sensible,  calls  it,  '  I 
know  not  what.'  As  that  cannot  be  understood,  so 
neither  can  it  be  described,  though  it  be  felt,  as  I  have 
said.  Hence  the  soul  says  that  the  creatures  speak 
indistinctly,  because  they  cannot  distinctly  utter  that 
which  they  would  say  :  it  is  the  speech  of  infants,  who 
cannot  explain  distinctly  or  speak  intelligibly  that  which 
they  would  convey  to  others. 

II.  The  other  creatures,  also,  are  in  some  measure  a 
revelation  to  the  soul  in  this  way,  but  not  of  an  order  so 
high,  whenever  it  is  the  good  pleasure  of  God  to  manifest 
to  it  their  spiritual  sense  and  significance  ;  they  are 
seemingly  on  the  point  of  making  us  understand  the 
perfections  of  God,  and  cannot  compass  it  ;  it  is  as  if 
one  were  about  to  explain  a  matter  and  the  explanation 
is  not  given  ;  and  thus  they  stammer  '  I  know  not  what.' 
The  soul  continues  to  complain,  and  addresses  its  own 
life,  saying,  in  the  stanza  that  follows  : 

STANZA   VIII 

But  how  thou  perseverest,  0  life  ! 

Not  living  where  thou  livest  ; 

The  arrows  bring  death 

Which  thou  receivest 

From  thy  conceptions  of  the  Beloved. 

The  soul,  perceiving  itself  to  be  dying  of  love,  as  it 
has  just  said,  and  yet  not  dying  so  as  to  have  the  free 


[STAN.  VIII.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM  63 

enjoyment  of  its  love,  complains  of  the  continuance  of  its 
bodily  life,  by  which  the  spiritual  life  is  delayed.  Here 
the  soul  addresses  itself  to  the  life  it  is  living  upon  earth, 
magnifying  the  sorrows  of  it.  The  meaning  of  the  stanza 
therefore  is  as  follows  :  '  O  life  of  my  soul,  how  canst 
thou  persevere  in  this  life  of  the  flesh,  seeing  that  it 
is  thy  death  and  the  privation  of  the  true  spiritual  life  in 
God,  in  Whom  thou  livest  in  substance,  love,  and  desire, 
more  truly  than  in  the  body  ?  And  if  this  were  not 
reason  enough  to  depart,  and  free  thyself  from  the  body 
of  this  death,  so  as  to  live  and  enjoy  the  life  of  God, 
how  canst  thou  still  remain  in  a  body  so  frail  ?  Besides, 
these  wounds  of  love  made  by  the  Beloved  in  the  revela- 
tion of  His  majesty  are  by  themselves  alone  sufficient 
to  put  an  end  to  thy  life,  for  they  are  very  deep  ;  and 
thus  all  thy  feelings  towards  Him,  and  all  thou  knowest  of 
Him,  are  so  many  touches  and  wounds  of  love  that  kill, 

'  But  how  thou  perse verest,  O  life  ! 
Not  living  where  thou  livest.' 

2.  We  must  keep  in  mind,  for  the  better  understanding 
of  this,  that  the  soul  lives  there  where  it  loves,  rather 
than  in  the  body  which  it  animates.  The  soul  does  not 
live  by  the  body,  but,  on  the  contrary,  gives  it  life, 
and  lives  by  love  in  that  which  it  loves.  For  beside  this 
life  of  love  which  it  lives  in  God  Who  loves  it,  the  soul 


64  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   VIII.] 

has  its  radical  and  natural  life  in  God,  like  all  created 
things,  according  to  the  saying  of  St.  Paul :  '  In  Him 
we  live,  and  move,  and  are  ;  '  *  that  is,  our  life,  motion, 
and  being  is  in  God.  St.  John  also  says  that  all  that 
was  made  was  life  in  God  :  '  That  which  was  made,  in 
Him  was  life.'  f 

3.  When  the  soul  sees  that  its  natural  life  is  in  God 
through  the  being  He  has  given  it,  and  its  spiritual  life 
also  because  of  the  love  it  bears  Him,  it  breaks  forth 
into  lamentations,  complaining  that  so  frail  a  life  in  a 
mortal  body  should  have  the  power  to  hinder  it  from 
the  fruition  of  the  true,  real,  and  delicious  life,  which  it 
lives  in  God  by  nature  and  by  love.  Earnestly,  therefore, 
does  the  soul  insist  upon  this  :  it  tells  us  that  it  suffers 
between  two  contradictions — its  natural  life  in  the  body, 
and  its  spiritual  life  in  God  ;  contrary  the  one  to  the 
other,  because  of  their  mutual  repugnance.  The  soul 
living  this  double  life  is  of  necessity  in  great  pain  ;  for 
the  painful  life  hinders  the  delicious,  so  that  the  natural 
life  is  as  death,  seeing  that  it  deprives  the  soul  of  its 
spiritual  life,  wherein  is  its  whole  being  and  life  by  nature. 


*  Acts  xvii.  28. 

f  St.  John  i.  3.  The  Saint  adopts  an  old  punctuation,  different  from 
the  usual  one.  He  reads  thus  :  '  Omnia  per  Ipsum  facta  sunt,  et  sine 
Ipso  factum  est  nihil  :  Quod  factum  est,  in  Ipso  vita  erat  ('  AH  things 
were  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him  nothing  was  made  :  What  was 
made  in  Him  was  life '). 


[STAN.    VIII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  65 

and  all  its  operations  and  feelings  by  love.  The  soul, 
therefore,  to  depict  more  vividly  the  hardship  of  this 
fragile  life,  says  : 

'  The  arrows  bring  death 
which  thou  receivest,' 

4.  That  is  to  say  :  '  Besides,  how  canst  thou  continue 
in  the  body,  seeing  that  the  touches  of  love — these  are 
the  arrows — ^\dth  which  the  Beloved  pierces  thy  heart, 
are  alone  sufficient  to  deprive  thee  of  life  ?  '  These  touches 
of  love  make  the  soul  and  the  heart  so  fruitful  of  the 
knowledge  and  love  of  God,  that  they  may  well  be  called 
conceptions  of  God,  as  in  the  words  that  follow  : 

'  From  thy  conceptions  of  the  Beloved.' 

5.  That  is,  of  the  majesty,  beauty,  wisdom,  grace, 
and  power,  which  thou  knowest  to  be  His. 

NOTE 

As  the  hart  wounded  with  a  poisoned  arrow  cannot  be 
easy  and  at  rest,  but  seeks  relief  on  all  sides,  plunging 
into  the  waters  here  and  again  there,  whilst  the  poison 
spreads  notwithstanding  all  attempts  at  relief,  till  it 
reaches  the  heart,  and  occasions  death  ;  so  the  soul, 
pierced  by  the  arrow  of  love,  never  ceases  from  seeking 
to  alleviate  its  pains.     Not  only  does  it  not  succeed,  but 

5 


66  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   IX.] 

its  pains  increase,  let  it  think,  and  say,  and  do  what  it 
may  ;  and  knowing  this,  and  that  there  is  no  other 
remedy  but  the  resignation  of  itself  into  the  hands  of 
Him  Who  wounded  it,  that  He  may  relieve  it,  and  effec- 
tually slay  it  through  the  violence  of  its  love  ;  it  turns 
towards  the  Bridegroom,  Who  is  the  cause  of  all,  and 
says  : 

STANZA    IX 

Why,  after  woundinq 

This  heart,  hast  Thou  not  healed  it  ? 

And  why,  after  stealing  it. 

Hast  Thou  thus  abandoned  it. 

And  not  carried  away  the  stolen  prey  ? 

Here  the  soul  returns  to  the  Beloved,  still  complaining 
of  its  pain  ;  for  that  impatient  love  which  the  soul  now 
exhibits  admits  of  no  rest  or  cessation  from  pain  ;  so  it 
sets  forth  its  griefs  in  all  manner  of  ways  until  it  finds 
relief.  The  soul  seeing  itself  wounded  and  lonely,  and 
as  no  one  can  heal  it  but  the  Beloved  Who  has  wounded 
it,  asks  why  He,  having  wounded  its  heart  with  that  love 
which  the  knowledge  of  Him  brings,  does  not  heal  it  in 
the  vision  of  His  presence  ;  and  why  He  thus  abandons 
the  heart  which  He  has  stolen  through  the  love  which 
inflames  it,  after  having  deprived  the  soul  of  all  power 
over  it.  The  soul  has  now  no  power  over  its  heart — for 
he  who  loves  has  none — because  it  is  surrendered  to  the 


[STAN.  IX.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  67 

Beloved,  and  yet  He  has  not  taken  it  to  Himself  in  the 
pure  and  perfect  transformation  of  love  in  glory. 

'  Why,  after  wounding  this  heart, 
hast  Thou  not  healed  it  ?  ' 

2.  The  enamoured  soul  is  complaining  not  because  it 
is  wounded,  for  the  deeper  the  wound  the  greater  the  joy, 
but  because,  being  wounded,  it  is  not  healed  by  being 
wounded  unto  death.  The  wounds  of  love  are  so 
deliciously  sweet,  that  if  they  do  not  kill,  they  cannot 
satisfy  the  soul.  They  are  so  sweet  that  it  desires  to  die 
of  them,  and  hence  it  is  that  it  says,  '  Why,  after 
wounding  this  heart,  hast  Thou  not  healed  it  ?  '  That  is, 
'  Why  hast  Thou  struck  it  so  sharply  as  to  wound  it  so 
deeply,  and  yet  not  healed  it  by  killing  it  utterly  with 
love  ?  As  Thou  art  the  cause  of  its  pain  in  the  affliction 
of  love,  be  Thou  also  the  cause  of  its  health  by  a  death 
from  love  ;  so  the  heart,  wounded  by  the  pain  of  Thy 
absence,  shall  be  healed  in  the  delight  and  glory  of  Thy 
sweet  presence.'     Therefore  it  goes  on  : 

'  And  why,  after  stealing  it, 

hast  Thou  thus  abandoned  it  ?  ' 

3.  Stealing  is  nothing  else  but  the  act  of  a  robber  in 
dispossessing  the  owner  of  his  goods,  and  possessing  them 
himself.  Here  the  soul  complains  to  the  Beloved  that  He 
has  robbed  it  of  its  heart  lovingly,  and  taken  it  out  of  its 


68  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    IX.] 

power  and  possession,  and  then  abandoned  it,  without 
taking  it  into  His  own  power  and  possession  as  the  thief 
does  with  the  goods  he  steals,  carrying  them  away  with 
him.  He  who  is  in  love  is  said  to  have  lost  his  heart,  or 
to  have  it  stolen  by  the  object  of  his  love  ;  because  it  is 
no  longer  in  his  own.  possession,  but  in  the  power  of  the 
object  of  his  love,  and  so  his  heart  is  not  his  own,  but  the 
property  of  the  person  he  loves. 

4.  This  consideration  udll  enable  the  soul  to  determine 
whether  it  loves  God  simply  or  not.  If  it  loves  Him  it 
will  have  no  heart  for  itself,  nor  for  its  own  pleasure  or 
profit,  but  for  the  honour,  glory,  and  pleasure  of  God  ; 
because  the  more  the  heart  is  occupied  with  self,  the  less 
is  it  occupied  \\dth  God.  Whether  God  has  really  stolen 
the  heart,  the  soul  may  ascertain  by  either  of  these  two 
signs  :  Is  it  anxiously  seeking  after  God  ?  and  has  it  no 
pleasure  in  anything  but  in  Him,  as  the  soul  here  says  ? 
The  reason  of  this  is  that  the  heart  cannot  rest  in  peace 
without  the  possession  of  something ;  and  when  its 
affections  are  once  placed,  it  has  neither  the  possession 
of  itself  nor  of  anything  else  ;  neither  does  it  perfectly 
possess  what  it  loves.  In  this  state  its  weariness  is  in  pro- 
portion to  its  loss,  until  it  shall  enter  into  possession  and  be 
satisfied  ;  for  until  then  the  soul  is  as  an  empty  vessel 
waiting  to  be  filled,  as  a  hungry  man  eager  for  food,  as  a  sick 
man  sighing  for  health,  and  as  a  man  suspended  in  the  air 


[STAN.   IX.]     OF   THE    SOUL    AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  69 

without  support  to  his  feet.  Such  is  the  state  of  the  loving 
heart,  and  the  soul  through  experience  of  it  cries  out,  'Why 
hast  Thou  thus  abandoned  it  ?  ' — that  is,  empty,  hungry, 
lonely,  wounded,  in  the  pangs  of  love,  suspended  in  air. 

'  And  not  carried  away  the  stolen  prey  ?  ' 

5.  '  Why  dost  Thou  not  carry  away  the  heart  which 
Thy  love  has  stolen,  to  fill  it,  to  heal  it,  and  to  satiate  it 
by  giving  it  perfect  rest  in  Thyself  ?  ' 

6.  The  loving  soul,  for  the  sake  of  greater  conformity 
with  the  Beloved,  cannot  cease  to  desire  the  recompense 
and  reward  of  its  love  for  the  sake  of  which  it  serves  the 
Beloved,  otherwise  it  could  not  be  true  love,  for  the 
recompense  of  love  is  nothing  else,  and  the  soul  seeks 
nothing  else,  but  greater  love,  until  it  reaches  the  perfec- 
tion of  love  ;  for  the  sole  reward  of  love  is  love,  as  we  learn 
from  the  prophet  Job,  who,  speaking  of  his  own  distress, 
which  is  that  of  the  soul  now  referred  to,  says  :  *  As  a  ser- 
vant longeth  for  the  shade,  as  the  hireling  looketh  for  the 
end  of  his  work  ;  so  I  also  have  had  empty  months,  and 
have  numbered  to  myself  wearisome  nights.  If  I  sleep,  I 
shall  say.  When  shall  I  arise  ?  and  again,  I  shall  look  for  the 
evening,  and  shall  be  filled  with  sorrows  even  till  darkness.'  * 

7.  Thus,  then,  the  soul  on  fire  with  the  love  of  God 
longs  for  the  perfection  and  consummation  of  its  love, 

*  Job  vii.  2—4. 


70  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    IX.] 

that  it  may  be  completely  refreshed.  As  the  servant 
wearied  by  the  heat  of  the  day  longs  for  the  cooling 
shade,  and  as  the  hirehng  looks  for  the  end  of  his  work, 
so  the  soul  for  the  end  of  its  own.  Observe,  Job  does 
not  say  that  the  hireling  looks  for  the  end  of  his  labour, 
but  only  for  the  end  of  his  work.  He  teaches  us  that  the 
soul  which  loves  looks  not  for  the  end  of  its  labour,  but 
for  the  end  of  its  work  ;  because  its  work  is  to  love,  and 
it  is  the  end  of  this  work,  which  is  love,  that  it  hopes  for, 
namely,  the  perfect  love  of  God.  Until  it  attains  to  this, 
the  words  of  Job  will  be  always  true  of  it^ — its  months 
will  be  empty,  and  its  nights  wearisome  and  tedious.  It 
is  clear,  then,  that  the  soul  which  loves  God  seeks  and 
looks  for  no  other  reward  of  its  services  than  to  love  God 
perfectly. 

NOTE 

The  soul,  having  reached  this  degree  of  love,  resembles  a 
sick  man  exceedingly  wearied,  whose  appetite  is  gone,  and 
to  whom  his  food  is  loathsome,  and  all  things  annoyance 
and  trouble.  Amidst  all  things  that  present  themselves 
to  his  thoughts,  or  feelings,  or  sight,  his  only  wish  and 
desire  is  health  ;  and  everything  that  does  not  contribute 
thereto  is  weariness  and  oppressive.  The  soul,  therefore, 
in  pain  because  of  its  love  of  God,  has  three  peculiarities. 
Under  all  circumstances,  and  in  all  affairs,  the  thought 


[STAN.  IX.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  7 1 

of  its  health — that  is,  the  Beloved — is  ever  present  to  it  ; 
and  though  it  is  obliged  to  attend  to  them  because  it 
cannot  help  it,  its  heart  is  ever  with  Him.  The  second 
peculiarity,  namely,  a  loss  of  pleasure  in  everything, 
arises  from  the  first.  The  third  also,  a  consequence  of 
the  second,  is  that  all  things  become  wearisome,  and  all 
affairs  full  of  vexation  and  annoyance. 

2.  The  reason  is  that  the  palate  of  the  will  having 
touched  and  tasted  of  the  food  of  the  love  of  God,  the 
will  instantly,  under  all  circumstances,  regardless  of  every 
other  consideration,  seeks  the  fruition  of  the  Beloved.  It 
is  with  the  soul  now  as  it  was  with  Mary  Magdalene, 
when  in  her  burning  love  she  sought  Him  in  the  garden. 
She,  thinking  Him  to  be  the  gardener,  spoke  to  Him 
without  further  reflection,  saying  :  '  If  thou  hast  taken 
Him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  Him,  and  I  will 
take  Him  away.'  *  The  soul  is  under  the  influence  of  a 
like  anxiety  to  find  Him  in  all  things,  and  not  finding 
Him  immediately,  as  it  desires — but  rather  the  very 
reverse — not  only  has  no  pleasure  in  them,  but  is  even 
tormented  by  them,  and  sometimes  exceedingly  so  :  for 
such  souls  suffer  greatly  in  their  intercourse  with  men 
and  in  the  transactions  of  the  world,  because  these  things 
hinder  rather  than  help  them  in  their  search. 

3.  The  bride  in  the  Canticle  shows  us  that  she  had 

*  St.   John  XX.   15. 


72  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    X.] 

these  three  pecuUarities  when  seeking  the  Bridegroom. 
'  I  sought  Him  and  found  Him  not  :  the  keepers  that  go 
about  the  city  found  me,  they  struck  me  and  wounded 
me  :  the  keepers  of  the  walls  took  away  my  cloak.'  * 
The  keepers  that  go  about  the  city  are  the  affairs  of  this 
world,  which,  when  they  '  find  '  a  soul  seeking  after  God, 
inflict  upon  it  much  pain,  and  grief,  and  loathing  ;  for 
the  soul  not  only  does  not  find  in  them  what  it  seeks,  but 
rather  a  hindrance.  They  who  keep  the  wall  of  con- 
templation, that  the  soul  may  not  enter — -that  is,  evil 
spirits  and  worldly  affairs— take  away  the  cloak  of  peace 
and  the  quiet  of  loving  contemplation.  All  this  inflicts 
infinite  vexation  on  the  soul  enamoured  of  God ;  and 
while  it  remains  on  earth  without  the  vision  of  God,  there 
is  no  relief,  great  or  small,  from  these  afflictions,  and 
the  soul  therefore  continues  to  complain  to  the  Beloved, 
saying  : 

STANZA    X 

Quench  Thou  my  troubles, 

For  no  one  else  can  soothe  them  ; 

And  let  mine  eyes  behold  Thee 

For  Thou  art  their  light, 

And  I  will  keep  them  for  Thee  alone. 

Here  the  soul  continues  to  beseech  the  Beloved  to  put 

an  end  to  its  anxieties  and  distress — none  other  than  He 

*  Cant.  V.  6,  7. 


[STAN.  X.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  73 

can  do  so — and  that  in  such  a  way  that  its  eyes  may 
behold  Him  ;  for  He  alone  is  the  light  by  which  they  see, 
and  there  is  none  other  but  He  on  whom  it  will  look. 

'  Quench  Thou  my  troubles.' 

2.  The  desire  of  love  has  this  property,  that  every- 
thing said  or  done  which  does  not  become  that  which  the 
will  loves,  wearies  and  annoys  it,  and  makes  it  peevish 
when  it  sees  itself  disappointed  in  its  desires.  This  and 
its  weary  longing  after  the  vision  of  God  is  here  called 
'  troubles.'  These  troubles  nothing  can  remove  except 
the  possession  of  the  Beloved  ;  hence  the  soul  prays 
Him  to  quench  them  with  His  presence,  to  cool  their 
feverishness,  as  the  cooling  water  him  who  is  wearied  by 
the  heat.  The  soul  makes  use  of  the  expression  '  quench/ 
to  denote  its  sufferings  from  the  fire  of  love. 

'  For  no  one  else  can  soothe  them.' 

3.  The  soul,  in  order  to  move  and  persuade  the 
Beloved  to  grant  its  petition,  says,  '  As  none  other  but 
Thou  can  satisfy  my  needs,  do  Thou  quench  my  troubles.' 
Remember  here  that  God  is  then  close  at  hand,  to  com- 
fort the  soul  and  to  satisfy  its  wants,  when  it  has  and 
seeks  no  satisfaction  or  comfort  out  of  Him.  The  soul 
that  finds  no  pleasure  out  of  God  cannot  be  long  un- 
visiled  by  the  Beloved. 

'  And  let  mine  eyes  behold  Thee,' 


74  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   X.] 

4.  Let  me  see  Thee  face  to  face  with  the  eyes  of  the 
soul, 

'  For  Thou  art  their  hght.' 

5.  God  is  the  supernatural  light  of  the  soul,  without 
which  it  abides  in  darkness.  And  now,  in  the  excess  of 
its  affection,  it  calls  Him  the  light  of  its  eyes,  as  an 
earthly  lover,  to  express  his  affection,  calls  the  object  of 
his  love  the  light  of  his  eyes.  The  soul  says  in  effect  in 
the  foregoing  terms,  '  Since  my  eyes  have  no  other  light, 
either  of  nature  or  of  love,  but  Thee,  let  them  behold 
Thee,  Who  in  every  way  art  their  light.'  David  was 
regretting  this  light  when  he  said  in  his  trouble,  *  The 
light  of  mine  eyes,  and  the  same  is  not  with  me  ;  '  *  and 
Tobias,  when  he  said,  '  What  manner  of  joy  shall  be  to 
me  who  sit  in  darkness,  and  see  not  the  light  of  heaven  ?  'f 
He  was  longing  for  the  clear  vision  of  God  ;  for  the 
light  of  heaven  is  the  Son  of  God  ;  as  St.  John  saith 
in  the  Apocalypse  :  '  And  the  city  needeth  not  sun,  nor 
moon  to  shine  in  it  ;  for  the  glory  of  God  hath  illuminated 
it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  lamp  thereof.'  J 

'  And  I  will  keep  them  for  Thee  alone.' 

6.  The  soul  seeks  to  constrain  the  Bridegroom  to  let 
it  see  the  light  of  its  eyes,  not  only  because  it  would  be 
in  darkness  \\ithout  it,  but  also  because  it  wall  not  look 

*  Ps.  xxxvii.    II.  t   Tob,   v.    12.  I  Apoc.  xxi.  23. 


[STAN.    X.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  75 

upon  anything  but  on  Him.  For  as  that  soul  is  justly 
deprived  of  this  divine  light  if  it  fixes  the  eyes  of  the  will 
on  any  other  light,  proceeding  from  anything  that  is  not 
God,  for  then  its  vision  is  confined  to  that  object  ;  so 
also  the  soul,  by  a  certain  fitness,  deserves  the  divine 
light,  if  it  shuts  its  eyes  against  all  objects  whatever, 
to  open  them  only  for  the  vision  of  God. 


NOTE 

But  the  loving  Bridegroom  of  souls  cannot  bear  to  see 
them  suffer  long  in  the  isolation  of  which  I  am  speaking, 
for,  as  He  saith  by  the  mouth  of  Zacharias,  '  He  that 
shall  touch  you,  toucheth  the  apple  of  Mine  eye  ;  '  * 
especially  when  their  sufferings,  as  those  of  this  soul, 
proceed  from  their  love  for  Him.  Therefore  doth  He 
speak  through  Isaias,  '  It  shall  be  before  they  call,  I  will 
hear ;  as  they  are  yet  speaking,  I  will  hear.'  f  And 
the  wise  man  saith  that  the  soul  that  seeketh  Him  as 
treasure  shall  find  Him.  J  God  grants  a  certain  spiritual 
presence  of  Himself  to  the  fervent  prayers  of  the  loving 
soul  which  seeks  Him  more  earnestly  than  treasure, 
seeing  that  it  has  abandoned  all  things,  and  even  itself, 
for  His  sake. 

2.     In    that    presence    He    shows    certain    profound 

*  Zach.  ii.  8.  f   Is.  Ixv.  24.  I  Prov.  ii.  4,  5. 


76  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   XI.] 

glimpses  of  His  divinity  and  beauty,  whereby  He  still 
increases  the  soul's  anxious  desire  to  behold  Him.  For 
as  men  throw  water  on  the  coals  of  the  forge  to  cause 
intenser  heat,  so  our  Lord  in  His  dealings  with  certain 
souls,  in  the  intermission  of  their  love,  makes  some 
revelations  of  His  majesty,  to  quicken  their  fervour,  and 
to  prepare  them  more  and  more  for  those  graces  which 
He  will  give  them  afterwards.  Thus  the  soul,  in  that 
obscure  presence  of  God,  beholding  and  feeling  the 
supreme  good  and  beauty  hidden  there,  is  dying  in  desire 
of  the  vision,  saying  in  the  stanza  that  follows  : 


STANZA    XI 

Reveal  Thy  presence, 

And  let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me. 

Behold,  the  malady 

Of  love  is  incurable 

Except  in  Thy  presence  and  before  Thy  face. 

The  soul,  anxious  to  be  possessed  by  God,  Who  is  so 
great.  Whose  love  has  wounded  and  stolen  its  heart, 
and  unable  to  suffer  more,  beseeches  Him  directly,  in 
this  stanza,  to  reveal  His  beauty — that  is,  the  divine 
essence — and  to  slay  it  in  that  vision,  separating  it  from 
the  body,  in  which  it  can  neither  see  nor  possess  Him  as 
it  desires.  And  further,  setting  before  Him  the  distress 
and  sorrow  of  heart,  in  which  it  continues,  suffering  it 


[STAN.  XI.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  77 

because  of  its  love,  and  unable  to  find  any  other  remedy 
than  the  glorious  vision  of  the  divine  essence,  cries  out  : 

'  Reveal  Thy  presence.' 

2.  To  understand  this  clearly  we  must  remember 
that  there  are  three  ways  in  which  God  is  present  in 
the  soul.  The  first  is  His  presence  in  essence,  not  in  holy 
souls  only,  but  in  wretched  and  sinful  souls  as  well,  and 
also  in  all  created  things  ;  for  it  is  by  this  presence  that 
He  gives  life  and  being,  and  were  it  once  withdrawni  all 
things  would  return  to  nothing.*  This  presence  never 
fails  in  the  soul. 

3.  The  second  is  His  presence  by  grace,  whereby  He 
dwells  in  the  soul,  pleased  and  satisfied  with  it.  This 
presence  is  not  in  all  souls  ;  for  those  who  fall  into  mortal 
sin  lose  it,  and  no  soul  can  know  in  a  natural  way  whether 
it  has  it  or  not.  The  third  is  His  presence  by  spiritual 
affection.  God  is  wont  to  show  His  presence  in  many 
devout  souls  in  divers  ways,  in  refreshment,  joy,  and 
gladness  ;  yet  this,  like  the  others,  is  all  secret,  for  He 
does  not  show  Himself  as  He  is,  because  the  condition 
of  our  mortal  life  does  not  admit  of  it.  Thus  this  prayer 
of  the  soul  may  be  understood  of  any  one  of  them. 

*  Reveal  Thy  presence.' 

4.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  certain  that  God  is  ever  present 

*  See  'Ascent  of  Mount  Carmel,'  bk.  ii.  ch.  v.  §  3. 


78  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   XI.] 

in  the  soul,  at  least  in  the  first  way,  the  soul  does  not 
say,  '  Be  Thou  present '  ;  but,  '  Reveal  and  manifest  Thy 
hidden  presence,  whether  natural,  spiritual,  or  affective, 
in  such  a  way  that  I  may  behold  Thee  in  Thy  divine 
essence  and  beauty.'  The  soul  prays  Him  that  as  He  by 
His  essential  presence  gives  it  its  natural  being,  and 
perfects  it  by  His  presence  of  grace,  so  also  He  would 
glorify  it  by  the  manifestation  of  His  glory.  But  as 
the  soul  is  now  loving  God  with  fervent  affections,  the 
presence,  for  the  revelation  of  which  it  prays  the  Beloved 
to  manifest,  is  to  be  understood  chiefly  of  the  affective 
presence  of  the  Beloved.  Such  is  the  nature  of  this 
presence  that  the  soul  felt  there  was  an  infinite  being 
hidden  there,  out  of  which  God  communicated  to  it 
certain  obscure  visions  of  His  owm  divine  beauty.  Such 
was  the  effect  of  these  visions  that  the  soul  longed  and 
fainted  away  with  the  desire  of  that  which  is  hidden  in 
that  presence. 

5.  This  is  in  harmony  with  the  experience  of  David, 
when  he  said  :  '  My  soul  longeth  and  fainteth  for  the 
courts  of  our  Lord.'*  The  soul  now  faints  with  desire 
of  being  absorbed  in  the  Sovereign  Good  which  it  feels 
to  be  present  and  hidden  ;  for  though  it  be  hidden,  the 
soul  is  most  profoundly  conscious  of  the  good  and  delight 
which  are  there.     The  soul  is  therefore  attracted  to  this 

*  Ps.   Ixxxiii.    3. 


[STAN.  XI.]      OF    THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  79 

good  with  more  violence  than  matter  is  to  its  centre, 
and  is  unable  to  contain  itself,  by  reason  of  the  force 
of  this  attraction,  from  saying  : 

*  Reveal  Thy  presence.' 

6.  Moses,  on  Mount  Sinai  in  the  presence  of  God, 
saw  such  glimpses  of  the  majesty  and  beauty  of  His 
hidden  Divinity,  that,  unable  to  endure  it,  he  prayed 
twice  for  the  vision  of  His  glory,  saying  :  *  Whereas  Thou 
hast  said  :  I  know  thee  by  name,  and  thou  hast  found 
grace  in  My  sight.  If,  therefore,  I  have  found  grace  in 
Thy  sight,  shew  me  Thy  face,  that  I  may  know  Thee 
and  may  find  grace  before  Thine  eyes  ;  '*  that  is,  the  grace 
which  he  longed  for — to  attain  to  the  perfect  love  of  the 
glory  of  God.  The  answer  of  our  Lord  was  :  '  Thou 
canst  not  see  My  face,  for  man  shall  not  see  Me  and 
live.'t  It  is  as  if  God  had  said  :  '  Moses,  thy  prayer  is 
difficult  to  grant  ;  the  beauty  of  My  face,  and  the  joy 
in  seeing  Me  is  so  great,  as  to  be  more  than  thy  soul 
can  bear  in  a  mortal  body  that  is  so  weak.'  The  soul, 
accordingly,  conscious  of  this  truth,  either  because  of 
the  answer  made  to  Moses  or  also  because  of  that  which 
I  spoke  of  before, J  namely,  the  feeling  that  there  is 
something  still  in  the  presence  of  God  here  which  it  could 
not  see  in  its  beauty  in  the  life  it  is  now  living,  because, 

*   Exod.    xxxiii.    12,   13.  f   lb.    20.  J   Stan.  vii.  §  10. 


80  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XI,] 

as  I  said  before,*  it  faints  when  it  sees  but  a  glimpse 
of  it.  Hence  it  comes  that  it  anticipates  the  answer 
that  may  be  given  to  it,  as  it  was  to  Moses,  and  says  : 

'  Let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me.' 

7.  That  is,  '  Since  the  vision  of  Thee  and  Thy  beauty 
is  so  full  of  delight  that  I  cannot  endure,  but  must  die 
in  the  act  of  beholding  them,  let  the  vision  and  Thy 
beauty  kill  me.' 

8.  Two  visions  are  said  to  be  fatal  to  man,  because 
he  cannot  bear  them  and  live.  One,  that  of  the  basilisk, 
at  the  sight  of  which  men  are  said  to  die  at  once.  The 
other  is  the  vision  of  God  ;  but  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  them.  The  former  kills  by  poison,  the  other 
with  infinite  health  and  bliss.  It  is,  therefore,  nothing 
strange  for  the  soul  to  desire  to  die  by  beholding  the 
beauty  of  God  in  order  to  enjoy  Him  for  ever.  If  the 
soul  had  but  one  single  glimpse  of  the  majesty  and 
beauty  of  God,  not  only  would  it  desire  to  die  once  in 
order  to  see  Him  for  ever,  as  it  desires  now,  but  would 
most  joyfully  undergo  a  thousand  most  bitter  deaths 
to  see  Him  even  for  a  moment,  and  having  seen  Him 
would  suffer  as  many  deaths  again  to  see  Him  for  another 
moment. 

9.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  for  the  better  explanation 

*  Supra,  §  4. 


[STAN.    XI.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  8l 

of  this  line,  that  the  soul  is  now  speaking  conditionally, 
when  it  prays  that  the  vision  and  beauty  may  slay  it  ; 
it  assumes  that  the  vision  must  be  preceded  by  death, 
for  if  it  were  possible  before  death,  the  soul  would  not 
pray  for  death,  because  the  desire  of  death  is  a  natural 
imperfection.  The  soul,  therefore,  takes  it  for  granted 
that  this  corruptible  life  cannot  coexist  ^vith  the  in- 
corruptible life  of  God,  and  says  : 

*  Let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me.' 

10.  St.  Paul  teaches  this  doctrine  to  the  Corinthians 
when  he  says  :  '  We  would  not  be  spoiled,  but  over- 
clothed,  that  that  which  is  mortal  may  be  swallowed 
up  of  life.'*  That  is,  'we  would  not  be  divested  of  the 
flesh,  but  invested  with  glory.'  But  reflecting  that  he 
could  not  live  in  glory  and  in  a  mortal  body  at  the  same 
time,  he  says  to  the  Philippians  :  '  having  a  desire  to 
be  dissolved  and  to  be  with  Christ. 'f 

11.  Here  arises  this  question,  Why  did  the  people 
of  Israel  of  old  dread  and  avoid  the  vision  of  God,  that 
they  might  not  die,  as  it  appears  they  did  from  the 
words  of  Manue  to  his  wife,  '  We  shall  die  because  we 
have  seen  God, 'J  when  the  soul  desires  to  die  of  that 
vision  ?     To  this  question  two  answers  may  be  given.- 

12.  In  those   days  men  could  not  see  God,   though 

*  2  Cor.  V.  4.  t   Phil.  i.  23.  J   Judg.   xiii.   22. 


82  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   XI.] 

dying  in  the  state  of  grace,  because  Christ  had  not  come. 
It  was  therefore  more  profitable  for  them  to  Hve  in 
the  flesh,  increasing  in  merit,  and  enjoying  their  natural 
life,  than  to  be  in  Limbus,  incapable  of  meriting,  suffering 
in  the  darkness  and  in  the  spiritual  absence  of  God. 
They  therefore  considered  it  a  great  grace  and  blessing 
to  live  long  upon  earth. 

13.  The  second  answer  is  founded  on  considerations 
drawn  from  the  love  of  God.  They  in  those  days,  not 
being  so  confirmed  in  love,  nor  so  near  to  God  by  love, 
were  afraid  of  the  vision  :  but  now,  under  the  law  of 
grace,  when,  on  the  death  of  the  body,  the  soul  may 
behold  God,  it  is  more  profitable  to  live  but  a  short 
time,  and  then  to  die  in  order  to  see  Him.  And  even 
if  the  vision  were  withheld,  the  soul  that  really  loves 
God  will  not  be  afraid  to  die  at  the  sight  of  Him  ;  for 
true  love  accepts  with  perfect  resignation,  and  in  the  same 
spirit,  and  even  with  joy,  whatever  comes  to  it  from  the 
hands  of  the  Beloved,  whether  prosperity  or  adversity 
— ^yea,  and  even  chastisements  such  as  He  shall  be  pleased 
to  send,  for,  as  St.  John  saith,  '  perfect  charity  casteth 
out  fear.'* 

14.  Thus,  then,  there  is  no  bitterness  in  death  to 
the  soul  that  loves,  when  it  brings  with  it  all  the  sweetness 
and  delights  of  love  ;    there  is  no  sadness  in  the  remem- 

*  I  St.  John  iv,  18, 


[STAN.  XI.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  8^ 

brance  of  it  when  it  opens  the  door  to  all  joy  ;  nor  can 
it  be  painful  and  oppressive,  when  it  is  the  end  of  all 
unhappiness  and  sorrow,  and  the  beginning  of  all  good. 
Yea,  the  soul  looks  upon  it  as  a  friend  and  its  bride,  and 
exults  in  the  recollection  of  it  as  the  day  of  espousals  ; 
it  yearns  for  the  day  and  hour  of  death  more  than  the 
kings  of  the  earth  for  principalities  and  Kingdoms. 

15.  It  was  of  this  kind  of  death  that  the  wise  man 
said,  '  O  death,  thy  judgment  is  good  to  the  needy 
man.'*  If  it  be  good  to  the  needy  man,  though  it  does 
not  supply  his  wants,  but  on  the  contrary  deprives  him 
even  of  what  he  hath,  how  much  more  good  will  it  be 
to  the  soul  in  need  of  love  and  which  is  crying  for  more, 
when  it  will  not  only  not  rob  it  of  the  love  it  hath  already, 
but  will  be  the  occasion  of  that  fulness  of  love  which 
it  yearns  for,  and  is  the  supply  of  all  its  necessities.  It 
is  not  without  reason,  then,  that  the  soul  ventures  to 
say: 

'  Let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me.' 

16.  The  soul  knows  well  that  in  the  instant  of  that 
vision  it  will  be  itself  absorbed  and  transformed  into 
that  beauty,  and  be  made  beautiful  like  it,  enriched, 
and  abounding  in  beauty  as  that  beauty  itself.  This  is 
why  David  said,  '  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is 

-  *  Ecclus.  xli.  3. 


84  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    XI.] 

the  death  of  His  saints,'*  but  that  could  not  be  if  they 
did  not  become  partakers  of  His  glory,  for  there  is  nothing 
precious  in  the  eyes  of  God  except  that  which  He  is 
Himself,  and  therefore  the  soul,  when  it  loves,  fears  not 
death,  but  rather  desires  it.  But  the  sinner  is  always 
afraid  to  die,  because  he  suspects  that  death  will  deprive 
him  of  all  good,  and  inflict  upon  him  all  evil ;  for  in 
the  words  of  David,  '  the  death  of  the  \vicked  is  very 
cvil,'t  and  therefore,  as  the  wise  man  saith,  the  very 
thought  of  it  is  bitter  :  '  O  death,  how  bitter  is  thy 
memory  to  a  man  that  hath  peace  in  his  riches  !'|  The 
wicked  love  this  life  greatly,  and  the  next  but  little, 
and  are  therefore  afraid  of  death  ;  but  the  soul  that 
loves  God  lives  more  in  the  next  life  than  in  this,  because 
it  lives  rather  where  it  loves  than  where  it  dwells,  and 
therefore  esteeming  but  lightly  its  present  bodily  life, 
cries  out  :    '  Let  the  vision  and  Thy  beauty  kill  me.' 

'  Behold,  the  malady  of  love  is  incurable, 

except  in  Thy  presence  and  before  Thy  face.' 

17,  The  reason  why  the  malady  of  love  admits  of 
no  other  remedy  than  the  presence  and  countenance  of 
the  Beloved  is,  that  the  malady  of  love  differs  from 
every  other  sickness,  and  therefore  requires  a  different 
remedy.       In      other     diseases,     according     to     sound 

*  Ps.  cxv.  15.         t  ^b-  xxxiii.  22.  X  Ecclus.  xli.  i. 


[STAN.   Xr.j      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  85 

philosophy,  contraries  are  cured  by  contraries  ;  but 
love  is  not  cured  but  by  that  which  is  in  harmony  with 
itself.  The  reason  is,  that  the  health  of  the  soul  con- 
sists in  the  love  of  God  ;  and  so  when  that  love  is  not 
perfect,  its  health  is  not  perfect,  and  the  soul  is  therefore 
sick,  for  sickness  is  nothing  else  but  a  failure  of  health. 
Thus,  that  soul  which  loves  not  at  all  is  dead  ;  but 
when  it  loves  a  little,  how  little  soever  that  may  be,  it 
is  then  alive,  though  exceedingly  weak  and  sick  because 
it  loves  God  so  little.  But  the  more  its  love  increases, 
the  greater  will  be  its  health,  and  when  its  love  is  perfect, 
then,  too,  its  health  also  is  perfect.  Love  is  not  perfect 
until  the  lovers  become  so  on  an  equality  as  to  be  mutually 
transformed  into  one  another ;  then  love  is  wholly 
perfect. 

18.  And  because  the  soul  is  now  conscious  of  a  certain 
adumbration  of  love,  which  is  the  malady  of  which  it 
here  speaks,  yearning  to  be  made  like  to  Him  of  whom 
it  is  a  shadow,  that  is  the  Bridegroom,  the  Word,  the 
Son  of  God,  Who,  as  St.  Paul  saith,  is  the  '  splendour 
of  His  glory,  and  the  figure  of  His  substance  ;  '*  and 
because  it  is  into  this  figure  it  desires  to  be  transformed 
by  love,  cries  out,  '  Behold,  the  malady  of  love  is  in- 
curable except  in  Thy  presence,  and  in  the  light  of  Thy 
countenance.'     The   love    that    is    imperfect    is    rightly 

*  Heb.  i.  3. 


86  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.    XI.] 

called  a  malady,  because  as  a  sick  man  is  enfeebled  and 
cannot  work,  so  the  soul  that  is  weak  in  love  is  also 
enfeebled  and  cannot  practise  heroic  virtue. 

19.  Another  explanation  of  these  words  is  this  :  he 
who  feels  this  malady  of  love — that  is,  a  failure  of  it — 
has  an  evidence  in  himself  that  he  has  some  love,  because 
he  ascertains  what  is  deficient  in  him  by  that  which  he 
possesses.  But  he  who  is  not  conscious  of  this  malady 
has  evidence  therein  that  he  has  no  love  at  all,  or  that 
he  has  already  attained  to  perfect  love. 

NOTE 

The  soul  now  conscious  of  a  vehement  longing  after 
God,  like  a  stone  rushing  to  its  centre,  and  like  wax 
which  has  begun  to  receive  the  impression  of  the  seal 
which  it  cannot  perfectly  represent,  and  knowing,  more- 
over, that  it  is  like  a  picture  lightly  sketched,  crying 
for  the  artist  to  linish  his  work,  and  having  its  faith  so 
clear  as  to  trace  most  distinctly  certain  divine  glimpses 
of  the  majesty  of  God,  knows  not  what  else  to  do  but 
to  turn  inward  to  that  faith — as  involving  and  veiling 
the  face  and  beauty  of  the  Beloved — from  which  it 
hath  received  those  impressions  and  pledges  of  love, 
rmd  which  it  thus  addresses  : 


[STAN.  XII.]      OF   THE   SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  87 

STANZA  XII 

O  crystal  well ! 

0  that  on  thy  silvered  surface 

Thou  wouldest  mirror  forth  at  once 

Those  desired  eyes 

Which  are  outlined  in  my  heart. 

The  soul  vehemently  desiring  to  be  united  to  the  Bride- 
groom, and  seeing  that  there  is  no  help  or  succour  in 
created  things,  turns  towards  the  faith,  as  to  that  which 
gives  it  the  most  vivid  vision  of  the  Beloved,  and  adopts 
it  as  the  means  to  that  end.  And,  indeed,  there  is  no 
other  way  of  attaining  to  true  union,  to  the  spiritual 
betrothal  of  God,  according  to  the  words  of  Osee_:  '  I 
will  betrothe  thee  to  Me  in  faith.'*  In  this  fervent 
desire  it  cries  out  in  the  words  of  this  stanza,  which  are 
in  effect  this  :  '  O  faith  of  Christ,  my  Bridegroom  !  Oh 
that  thou  wouldest  manifest  clearly  those  truths  con- 
cerning the  Beloved,  secretly  and  obscurely  infused — 
for  faith  is,  as  theologians  say,  an  obscure  habit — so 
that  thy  informal  and  obscure  communications  may 
be  in  a  moment  clear  ;  Oh  that  thou  wouldest  withdraw 
thyself  formally  and  completely  from  these  truths — 
for  faith  is  a  veil  over  the  truths  of  God — and  reveal 
them  perfectly  in  glory.'     Accordingly  it  says  : 

'  O  crystal  well !  ' 

*  Os.  ii.  20, 


88  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XII.] 

2.  Faith  is  called  crystal  for  two  reasons  :  because 
it  is  of  Christ  the  Bridegroom  ;  because  it  has  the  property 
of  crystal,  pure  in  its  truths,  a  limpid  well  clear  of  error, 
and  of  natural  forms.  It  is  a  well  because  the  waters 
of  all  spiritual  goodness  flow  from  it  into  the  soul.  Christ 
our  Lord,  speaking  to  the  woman  of  Samaria,  calls 
faith  a  well,  saying,  '  The  water  that  I  will  give  him 
shall  become  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into 
life  everlasting.'*  This  water  is  the  -Spirit,  which  they 
who  believe  shall  receive  by  faith  in  Him.  '  Now 
this  He  said  of  the  Spirit  which  they  who  believed  in 
Him  should  receive.'! 

'  Oh  that  on  thy  silvered  surface.' 

3.  The  articles  and  definitions  of  the  faith  are  called 
silvered  surfaces.  In  order  to  understand  these  words 
and  those  that  follow,  we  must  know  that  faith  is  com- 
pared to  silver  because  of  the  propositions  it  teaches 
us,  the  truth  and  substance  it  involves  being  compared 
to  gold.  This  very  substance  which  we  now  believe, 
hidden  behind  the  silver  veil  of  faith,  we  shall  clearly  be- 
hold and  enjoy  hereafter  ;  the  gold  of  faith  shall  be  made 
manifest.  Hence  the  Psalmist,  speaking  of  this,  saith  : 
'  If  ye  sleep  amidst  the  lots,  the  wings  of  the  dove  are 
laid  over  with  silver,  and  the  hinder  parts  of  the  back 

*  S.  John  iv.  14.  f  lb.  vii.  39. 


[STAN.  XII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  89 

in  the  paleness  of  gold.'*  That  means,  if  we  shall  keep 
the  eyes  of  the  understanding  from  regarding  the  things 
of  heaven  and  of  earth — this  the  Psalmist  calls  sleeping  in 
the  midst — we  shall  be  firm  in  the  faith,  here  called  dove, 
the  wings  of  which  are  the  truths  laid  over  with  silver, 
because  in  this  life  the  faith  puts  these  truths  before  us 
obscurely  beneath  a  veil.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  soul 
calls  them  silvered  surface.  But  when  faith  shall  have  been 
consummated  in  the  clear  vision  of  God,  then  the  substance 
of  faith,  the  silver  veil  removed,  will  shine  as  gold. 

4.  As  the  faith  gives  and  communicates  to  us  God 
Himself,  but  hidden  beneath  the  silver  of  faith,  yet  it 
reveals  Him  none  the  less.  So  if  a  man  gives  us  a  vessel 
made  of  gold,  but  covered  with  silver,  he  gives  us  in 
reality  a  vessel  of  gold,  though  the  gold  be  covered 
over.  Thus,  when  the  bride  in  the  Canticle  was  longing 
for  the  fruition  of  God,  He  promised  it  to  her  so  far  as 
the  state  of  this  life  admitted  of  it,  saying  :  '  We  will 
make  thee  chains  of  gold  inlaid  with  silver. 'f  He  thus 
promised  to  give  Himself  to  her  under  the  veil  of  faith. 
Hence  the  soul  addresses  the  faith,  saying  :  '  Oh  that  on 
thy  silvered  surface  ' — the  definitions  of  faith—'  in  which 
thou  hidest '  the  gold  of  the  divine  rays — which  are  the 
desired  eyes, — instantly  adding  : 
'  Thou  wouldest  mirror  forth  at  once  those  desired  eyes  ! ' 

*  Ps.  Ixvii.   14.  t  Cant.  i.   10. 


90  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   Xll.j 

5.  By  the  eyes  are  understood,  as  I  have  said,  the 
rays  and  truths  of  God,  which  are  set  before  us  hidden 
and  informal  in  the  definitions  of  the  faith.  Thus  the 
words  say  in  substance  :  '  Oh  that  thou  wouldest  formally 
and  explicitly  reveal  to  me  those  hidden  truths  which 
Thou  teachest  implicitly  and  obscurely  in  the  definitions 
of  the  faith  ;  according  to  my  earnest  desire.'  Those 
truths  are  called  eyes,  because  of  the  special  presence 
of  the  Beloved,  of  which  the  soul  is  conscious,  believing 
Him  to  be  perpetually  regarding  it  ;    and  so  it  says  : 

'  \Miich  are  outlined  in  my  heart.' 

6.  The  soul  here  says  that  these  truths  are  outlined 
in  the  heart— that  is,  in  the  understanding  and  the  will. 
It  is  through  the  understanding  that  these  truths  are 
infused  into  the  soul  by  faith.  They  are  said  to  be 
outlined  because  the  knowledge  of  them  is  not  perfect. 
As  a  sketch  is  not  a  perfect  picture,  so  the  knowledge 
that  comes  by  faith  is  not  a  perfect  understanding. 
The  truths,  therefore,  infused  into  the  soul  by  faith  are 
as  it  were  in  outline,  and  when  the  clear  vision  shall 
be  granted,  then  they  will  be  as  a  perfect  and  finished 
picture,  according  to  the  words  of  the  Apostle  :  *  When 
that  shall  come  which  is  perfect,  that  shall  be  made 
void  which  is  in  part.'*     '  That  which  is  perfect '  is  the 

*  I  Cor.  xiii.  10. 


[STAN.   XII.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  QI 

clear  vision,  and  '  that  wliich  is  in  part  '  is  the  knowledge 
that  comes  by  faith. 

7.  Besides  this  outline  which  comes  by  faith,  there 
is  another  by  love  in  the  soul  that  loves — that  is,  in  the 
will — in  which  the  face  of  the  Beloved  is  so  deeply  and 
vividly  pictured,  when  the  union  of  love  occurs,  that 
it  may  be  truly  said  the  Beloved  Uves  in  the  loving 
soul,  and  the  loving  soul  in  the  Beloved.  Love  produces 
such  a  resemblance  by  the  transformation  of  those  who 
love  that  one  may  be  said  to  be  the  other,  and  both 
but  one.  The  reason  is,  that  in  the  union  and  trans- 
formation of  love  one  gives  himself  up  to  the  other 
as  his  possession,  and  each  resigns,  abandons,  and  ex- 
changes himself  for  the  other,  and  both  become  but 
one  in  the  transformation  wrought  by  love. 

8.  This  is  the  meaning  of  St.  Paul  when  he  said, 
'  I  live,  now,  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me.'*  In  that 
He  saith,  '  I  live,  now,  not  I,'  his  meaning  is,  that 
though  he  lived,  yet  the  life  he  lived  was  not  his  own, 
because  he  was  transformed  in  Christ  :  that  his  life  was 
divine  rather  than  human  ;  and  for  that  reason,  he  said 
it  was  not  he  that  lived,  but  Christ  Who  lived  in  him. 
We  may  therefore  say,  according  to  this  likeness  of 
transformation,  that  his  life  and  the  life  of  Christ  were 
one  by  the  union  of  love.     This  will  be  perfect  in  heaven 

*  Gal.  ii.  20. 


()2  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XII.] 

in  the  divine  life  of  all  those  who  shall  merit  the  beatific 
vision  ;  for,  transformed  in  God,  they  will  live  the  life 
of  God  and  not  their  own,  since  the  life  of  God  will  be 
theirs.  Then  they  will  say  in  truth,  '  We  live,  but  not 
we  ourselves,  for  God  liveth  in  us.' 

9.  Now,  this  may  take  place  in  this  life,  as  in  the 
case  of  St.  Paul,  but  not  perfectly  and  completely,  though 
the  soul  should  attain  to  such  a  transformation  of  love 
as  shall  be  spiritual  marriage,  which  is  the  highest  state 
it  can  reach  in  this  life  ;  because  all  this  is  but  an  outline 
of  love  compared  with  the  perfect  image  of  transforma- 
tion in  glory.  Yet,  when  this  outline  of  transformation 
is  attained  in  this  life,  it  is  a  grand  blessing,  because  the 
Beloved  is  so  greatly  pleased  therewith.  He  desires, 
therefore,  that  the  bride  should  have  Him  thus  delineated 
in  her  soul,  and  saith  unto  her,  '  Put  Me  as  a  seal  upon 
thy  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thy  arm.'*  The  heart  here 
signifies  the  soul,  wherein  God  in  this  life  dwells  as 
an  impression  of  the  seal  of  faith,  and  the  arm  is  the 
resolute  will,  where  He  is  as  the  impressed  token  of  love. 

10.  Such  is  the  state  of  the  soul  at  that  time.  I  speak 
but  little  of  it,  not  willing  to  leave  it  altogether  untouched, 
though  no  language  can  describe  it. 

11.  The  very  substance  of  soul  and  body  seems  to 
be  dried  up  by  thirst  after  this  living  well  of  God,  for 

*  Cant.  vUi.  6. 


[STAN.  XII.]      OF   THE    SOUL    AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  93 

the  thirst  resembles  that  of  David  when  he  cried  out, 
'  As  the  hart  longeth  for  the  fountains  of  waters,  so 
my  soul  longeth  for  Thee,  O  God.  My  soul  hath  thirsted 
after  the  strong  living  God  ;  when  shall  I  come  and 
appear  before  the  face  of  God  ?  '*  So  oppressive  is 
this  thirst  to  the  soul,  that  it  counts  it  as  nothing  to 
break  through  the  camp  of  the  Philistines,  like  the 
valiant  men  of  David,  to  fill  its  pitcher  with  '  water 
out  of  the  cisterns  of  Bethlehem, 'f  which  is  Christ,  The 
trials  of  this  world,  the  rage  of  the  devil,  and  the  pains 
of  hell  are  nothing  to  pass  through,  in  order  to  plunge 
into  this  fathomless  fountain  of  love. 

12.  To  this  we  may  apply  those  words  in  the 
Canticle  :  '  Love  is  strong  as  death,  jealousy  is  hard 
as  hell.'  J:  It  is  incredible  how  vehement  are  the  longings 
and  sufferings  of  the  soul  when  it  sees  itself  on  the  point 
of  tasting  this  good,  and  at  the  same  time  sees  it  withheld  ; 
for  the  nearer  the  object  desired, 'the  greater  the  pangs 
of  its  denial  :  '  Before  I  eat,'  saith  Job,  '  I  sigh,  and  as 
it  were  overflowing  waters  so  my  roaring  '  §  and  hunger 
for  food.  God  is  meant  here  by  food  ;  for  in  proportion 
to  the  soul's  longing  for  food,  and  its  knowledge  of  God, 
is  the  pain  it  suffers  now. 

*  Ps.  xli.   I,  2.  t   I   Paral.  xi.   18. 

I  Cant.  viii.  6.  §  Job  iii.  24. 


94  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XII.] 

NOTE 

The  source  of  the  grievous  sufferings  of  the  soul  at  this 
time  is  the  consciousness  of  its  own  emptiness  of  God — 
while  it  is  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  Him — and  also 
the  thick  darkness  with  the  spiritual  fire,  which  dry  and 
puri'y  it,  that,  its  purification  ended,  it  may  be  united 
with  God.  For  when  God  sends  not  forth  a  ray  of  super- 
natural light  into  the  soul,  He  is  to  it  intolerable  darkness 
when  He  is  even  near  to  it  in  spirit,  for  the  supernatural 
light  by  its  very  brightness  obscures  the  mere  natural 
light.  David  referred  to  this  when  he  said  :  '  Cloud 
and  mist  round  about  Him  ...  a  fire  shall  go 
before  Him.'  *  And  again  :  '  He  put  darkness  His 
covert  ;  His  tabernacle  is  round  about  Him,  darksome 
waters  in  the  clouds  of  the  air.  Because  of  the  brightness 
in  His  sight  the  clouds  passed,  hail  and  coals  of  fire.'  f 
The  soul  that  approaches  God  feels  Him  to  be  all  this 
more  and  more  the  further  it  advances,  until  He  shall 
cause  it  to  enter  within  His  divine  brightness  through 
the  transformation  of  love.  But  the  comfort  and  con- 
solations of  God  are,  by  His  infinite  goodness,  proportional 
to  the  darkness  and  emptiness  of  the  soul,  as  it  is  written, 
'  As  the  darkness  thereof,  so  also  the  light  thereof. '{ 
And  because  He  humbles  souls  and  wearies  them,  while 

♦  Ps.  xcvi,  2,  3.  t  lb.  xvii,   12,  13.  X  lb.  Gxxxviii.  iz. 


[STAN.   XIII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  95 

He  is  exalting  them  and  making  them  glorious,  He  sends 
into  the  soul,  in  the  midst  of  its  weariness,  certain  divine 
rays  from  Himself,  in  such  gloriousness  and  strength 
of  love  as  to  stir  it  up  from  its  very  depths,  and  to  change 
its  whole  natural  condition.  Thus  the  soul,  in  great 
fear  and  natural  awe,  addresses  the  Beloved  in  the  first 
words  of  the  following  stanza,  the  remainder  of  which 
is  His  answer  : 


,,  STANZA    XIH 

Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved  ! 
I  am  on  the  wing. 

THE   BRIDEGROOM 

Return,  My  Dove  ! 

The  wounded  hart 

Looms  on  the  hill 

In  the  air  of  thy  flight  and  is  refreshed. 

EXPLANATION 

Amid  those  fervent  affections  of  love,  such  as  the  soul 
has  shown  in  the  preceding  stanzas,  the  Beloved  is  wont 
to  visit  His  bride,  tenderly,  lovingly,  and  with  great 
strength  of  love  ;  for  ord'narily  the  graces  and  visits  of 
God  are  great  in  proportion  to  the  greatness  of  those 
fervours  and  longings  of  love  which  have  gone  before. 
And,  as  the  soul  has  so  anxiously  longed  for  the  divine 


96  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    XIII.] 

eyes — as  in  the  foregoing  stanza — the  Beloved  reveals  to 
it  some  glimpses  of  His  majesty  and  Godhead,  according 
to  its  desires.  These  divine  rays  strike  the  soul  so 
profoundly  and  so  vividly  that  it  is  rapt  into  an  ecstasy 
which  in  the  beginning  is  attended  with  great  suffering 
and  natural  fear.  Hence  the  soul,  unable  to  bear  the 
ecstasies  in  a  body  so  frail,  cries  out,  '  Turn  away  thine 
eyes  from  me.' 

'  Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved  !  ' 

2.  That  is,  'Thy  divine  eyes,  for  they  make  me  fly 
away  out  of  myself  to  the  heights  of  contemplation,  and 
my  natural  force  cannot  bear  it.'  This  the  soul  says 
because  it  thinks  it  has  escaped  from  the  burden  of  the 
flesh,  which  was  the  object  of  its  desires  ;  it  therefore 
prays  the  Beloved  to  turn  away  His  eyes  ;  that  is,  not  to 
show  them  in  the  body  where  it  cannot  bear  and  enjoy 
them  as  it  would,  but  to  show  them  to  it  in  its  flight  from 
the  body.  The  Bridegroom  at  once  denies  the  request 
and  hinders  the  flight,  saying,  '  Return,  My  Dove  !  for 
the  communications  I  make  to  thee  now  are  not  those  of 
the  state  of  glory  wherein  thou  desirest  to  be  ;  but 
return  to  Me,  for  I  am  He  WTiom  thou,  wounded  with 
love,  art  seeking,  and  I,  too,  as  the  hart,  wounded  with 
thy  love,  begin  to  show  Myself  to  thee  on  the  heights  of 
contemplation,  and  am  refreshed  and  delighted  by  the 


[STAN.  XIII.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  97 

love  which  thy  contemplation  involves.'     The  soul  then 
says  to  the  Bridegroom  : 

*  Turn  them  away,  0  my  Beloved  !  * 

3.  The  soul,  because  of  its  intense  longing  after  the 
divine  eyez — that  is,  the  Godhead — receives  interiorly 
from  the  Beloved  such  communications  and  knowledge 
of  God  as  compel  it  to  cry  out,  '  Turn  them  away,  O  my 
Beloved  !  '  For  such  is  the  wretchedness  of  our  mortal 
nature,  that  we  cannot  bear — even  when  it  is  offered  to 
us — but  at  the  cost  of  our  life,  that  which  is  the  very 
life  of  the  soul,  and  the  object  of  its  earnest  desires, 
namely,  the  knowledge  of  the  Beloved.  Thus  the  soul  is 
compelled  to  say,  with  regard  to  the  eyes  so  earnestly, 
so  anxiously  sought  for,  and  in  so  many  ways — when  they 
become   visible — '  Turn   them    away.' 

4.  So  great,  at  times,  is  the  suffering  of  the  soul 
during  these  ecstatic  visitations — and  there  is  no  other 
pain  which  so  wrenches  the  very  bones,  and  which  so 
oppresses  our  natural  forces — that,  were  it  not  for  the 
special  interference  of  God,  death  would  ensue.  And,  in 
truth,  such  is  it  to  the  soul,  the  subject  of  these  visita- 
tions, for  it  feels  as  if  it  were  released  from  the  body 
and  a  stranger  to  the  flesh.  Such  graces  cannot  be 
perfectly  received  in  the  body,  because  the  spirit  of  man 
is  lifted  up  to  the  communion  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  Who 

7 


gS  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XIII.] 

visits  the  soul,  and  must  therefore  of  necessity  be  in  some 
measure  a  stranger  to  the  body.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
flesh  has  to  suffer,  and  consequently  the  soul  in  it,  by 
reason  of  their  union  in  one  person.  The  great  agony  of 
the  soul,  therefore,  in  these  visitations,  and  the  great  fear 
that  overwhelms  it  when  God  deals  with  it  in  the  super- 
natural way,*  force  it  to  cry  out,  '  Turn  them  away,  O 
my  Beloved  !  ' 

5.     But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  the 
soul  really  wishes  Him  to  turn  away  His  eyes  ;   for  this  is 
nothing  else  but  the  expression  of  natural  awe,  as  I  said 
before. t     Yea,  rather,  cost  they  what  they  may,  the  soul 
would  not  willingly  miss  these  visitations  and  favours  of 
the  Beloved  ;    for  though  nature  may  suffer,  the  spirit 
flies  to  this  supernatural  recollection,  in  order  to  enjoy 
the  spirit  of  the  Beloved,  the  object  of  its  prayers  and 
desires.     The  soul  is  unwilling  to  receive  these  visitations 
in  the  body,  when  it  cannot  have  the  perfect    fruition 
of  them,  and  only  in  a  slight  degree  and  in  pain  ;  but  it 
covets  them  in  the  flight  of  the  disembodied  spirit  when 
it  can  enjoy  them  freely.     Hence  it  says,  '  Turn  them 
away,    my    Beloved  ' — that  is.  Do  not   visit  me  in    the 
flesh. 

'  I  am  on  the  wing." 

*  See  St.  Teresa,  '  Life,'  ch.  xx.  §  16,  or  '  Las  Moradas,'  vi.  ch.  xi. 
t  §  I  supra. 


[STAN.  XIII.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  99 

6.  It  is  as  if  it  said,  '  I  am  taking  my  flight  out  of  the 
body,  that  Thou  mayest  show  them  when  I  shall  have 
left  it ;  they  being  the  cause  of  my  flight  out  of  the  body.' 
For  the  better  understanding  of  the  nature  of  this  flight 
we  should  consider  that  which  I  said  just  now.*  In  this 
visitation  of  the  divine  Spirit  the  spirit  of  the  soul  is  with 
great  violence  borne  upwards  into  communion  with  the 
divine,  the  body  is  abandoned,  all  its  acts  and  senses  are 
suspended,  because  they  are  absorbed  in  God.  Thus  the 
Apostle,  St.  Paul,  speaking  of  his  own  ecstasy,  saith, 
'  Whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body,  I  cannot  tell.'  f 
But  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  soul  abandons  the 
body,  and  that  the  natural  life  is  destroyed,  but  only  that 
its  actions  have  then  ceased. 

7.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  body  remains  insensible 
in  raptures  and  ecstasies,  and  unconscious  of  the  most 
painful  inflictions.  These  are  not  hke  the  swoons  and 
faintings  of  the  natural  life,  which  cease  when  pain  begins. 
They  who  have  not  arrived  at  perfection  are  liable  to 
these  visitations,  for  they  happen  to  those  who  are 
walking  in  the  way  of  proficients.  They  who  are  already 
perfect  receive  these  visitations  in  peace  and  in  the 
sweetness  of  love  :  ecstasies  cease,  for  they  were  only 
graces  to  prepare  them  for  this  greater  grace, 

8.  This  is  a  fitting  place  for  discussing  the  difference 

*  §  4  supra.  t   2  Cor.  xii,  3 


100  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XIII.] 

between  raptures,  ecstasies,  other  elevations  and  subtile 
flights  of  the  spirit,  to  which  spiritual  persons  are  liable  ; 
but,  as  I  intend  to  do  nothing  more  than  explain  briefly 
this  canticle,  as  I  undertook  in  the  prologue,  I  leave  the 
subject  for  those  who  are  better  qualified  than  I  am. 
I  do  this  the  more  readily,  because  our  mother,  the 
blessed  Teresa  of  Jesus,  has  written  admirably  on  this 
matter,*  whose  writings  I  hope  in  God  to  see  published 
soon.  The  flight  of  the  soul  in  this  place,  then,  is  to  be 
understood  of  ecstasy,  and  elevation  of  spirit  in  God. 
The  Beloved  immediately  says  : 

'  Return,  My  Dove.' 

g.  The  soul  was  joyfully  quitting  the  body  in  its 
spiritual  flight,  thinking  that  its  natural  hfe  was  over, 
and  that  it  was  about  to  enter  into  the  everlasting  fruition 
of  the  Bridegroom,  and  remain  with  Him  without  a  veil 
between  them.  He,  however,  restrains  it  in  its  flight, 
saying : 

•  Return,  My  Dove.' 

10.  It  is  as  if  He  said,  '  O  My  Dove,  in  thy  high  and 
rapid  flight  of  contemplation,  in  the  love  wherewith  thou 
art  inflamed,  in  the  simplicity  of  thy  regard  ' — these  are 
three  characteristics  of  the  dove — '  return  from  that  flight 
in  which  thou  aimest  at  the  true  fruition  of  Myself — the 

*  See  'Relation'  viii. 


[STAN.  XIII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM         lOI 

time  is  not  yet  come  for  knowledge  so  high — return,  and 
submit  thyself  to  that  lower  degree  of  it  which  I  com- 
municate in  this  thy  rapture.' 

'  The  wounded  hart.' 

11.  The  Bridegroom  hkens  Himself  to  a  hart,  for  by 
the  hart  here  He  means  Himself.  The  hart  by  nature 
climbs  up  to  high  places,  and  when  wounded  hastens  to 
seek  relief  in  the  coohng  waters.  If  he  hears  his  consort 
moan  and  sees  that  she  is  wounded,  he  runs  to  her  at 
once,  comforts,  and  caresses  her.  So  the  Bridegroom 
now  ;  for,  seeing  the  bride  wounded  with  His  love.  He, 
too,  hearing  her  moaning,  is  wounded  Himself  with  her 
love  ;  for  with  lovers  the  wound  of  one  is  the  wound  of 
the  other,  and  they  have  the  same  feehngs  in  common. 
The  Bridegroom,  therefore,  saith  in  effect :  '  Return,  my 
bride,  to  Me  ;  for  as  thou  art  wounded  with  the  love  of 
Me,  I  too,  like  the  hart,  am  wounded  by  love  for  thee, 
I  am  like  the  hart,  looming  on  the  top  of  the  hill.'  There- 
fore He  says  : 

'  Looms  on  the  hill.' 

12.  That  is,  'on  the  heights  of  contemplation,  to 
which  thou  hast  ascended  in  thy  flight.'  Contemplation 
is  a  lofty  eminence  where  God,  in  this  life,  begins  to 
communicate  Himself  to  the  soul,  and  to  show  Himself, 
but  not  distinctly.     Hence  it  is  said,   '  Looms  on  the 


102  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XIII.] 

hill,'  because  He  does  not  appear  clearly.  However 
profound  the  knowledge  of  Himself  which  God  may  grant 
to  the  soul  in  this  life,  it  is,  after  all,  but  an  indistinct 
vision.  We  now  come  to  the  third  property  of  the  hart, 
the  subject  of  the  line  that  follows  : 

'  In  the  air  of  thy  flight,  and  is  refreshed.' 

13.  The  flight  is  contemplation  in  the  ecstasy  spoken 
of  before,*  and  the  air  is  the  spirit  of  love  produced  in 
the  soul  by  this  flight  of  contemplation,  and  this  love 
produced  by  the  flight  is  here  with  great  propriety  called 
'  air,'  for  the  Holy  Ghost  also  is  likened  to  air  in  the 
Sacred  Writings,  because  He  is  the  breath  of  the  Father 
and  the  Son.  And  so  as  He  is  there  the  air  of  the  flight — 
that  is,  that  He  proceeds  by  the  will  from  the  contempla- 
tion and  wisdom  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  and  is 
breathed — so  here  the  love  of  the  soul  is  called  air  by  the 
Bridegroom,  because  it  proceeds  from  the  contemplation 
of  God  and  the  knowledge  of  Him  which  at  this  time  is 
possessed  by  the  soul. 

14.  We  must  observe  here  that  the  Bridegroom 
does  not  say  that  He  cometh  at  the  flight,  but  at  the  air 
of  the  flight,  because  properly  speaking  God  does  not 
communicate  Himself  to  the  soul  because  of  that  flight, 
which  is,  as  I  have  said,  the  knowledge  it  has  of  God,  but 

*  §  I. 


[STAN.  XIII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM         IO3 

because  of  the  love  which  is  the  fruit  of  that  knowledge. 
For  as  love  is  the  union  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  so  is 
it  also  of  God  and  the  soul. 

15.  Hence  it  is  that  notwithstanding  the  most  pro- 
found knowledge  of  God,  and  contemplation  itself, 
together  with  the  knowledge  of  all  mysteries,  the  soul 
without  love  is  nothing  worth,  and  can  do  nothing,  as  the 
Apostle  saith,  towards  its  union  with  God.*  In  another 
place  he  saith,  '  Have  charity,  which  is  the  bond  of 
perfection.'!  This  charity  then  and  love  of  the  soul 
make  the  Bridegroom  run  to  drink  of  the  fountain  of  the 
Bride's  love,  as  the  cooling  waters  attract  the  thirsty  and 
the  wounded  hart,  to  be  refreshed  therein. 

'  And  is  refreshed.' 

16.  As  the  air  cools  and  refreshes  him  who  is  wearied 
with  the  heat,  so  the  air  of  love  refreshes  and  comforts 
him  who  burns  with  the  fire  of  love.  The  fire  of  love 
hath  this  property,  the  air  which  cools  and  refreshes 
it  is  an  increase  of  the  fire  itself.  To  him  who  loves, 
love  is  a  flame  that  bums  with  the  desire  of  burning  more 
and  more,  like  the  flame  of  material  fire.  The  consum- 
mation of  this  desire  of  burning  more  and  more,  with 
the  love  of  the  bride,  which  is  the  air  of  her  flight,  is 
here  called  refreshment.     The  Bridegroom  says  in  sub- 

*  J  Cor.  xjii.  2.  t  Col.  iii.   14. 


104  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   XIII.] 

stance,  '  I  burn  more  and  more  because  of  the  ardour 
of  thy  flight,  for  love  kindles  love.' 

17.  God  does  not  establish  His  grace  and  love  in  the 
soul  but  in  proportion  to  the  good  will  of  that  soul's 
love.  He,  therefore,  that  truly  loves  God  must  strive 
that  his  love  fail  not  ;  for  so,  if  we  may  thus  speak, 
will  he  move  God  to  show  him  greater  love,  and  to  take 
greater  dehght  in  his  soul.  In  order  to  attain  to  such 
a  degree  of  love,  he  must  practise  those  things  of  which 
the  Apostle  speaks,  saying :  '  Charity  is  patient,  is 
benign :  charity  envieth  not,  dealeth  not  perversely  ; 
is  not  puffed  up,  is  not  ambitious,  seeketh  not  her  own, 
is  not  provoked  to  anger,  thinketh  not  evil,  rejoiceth 
not  upon  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  with  the  truth  ;  beareth 
all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth 
all  things.'  * 

NOTE 

When  the  dove— that  is  the  soul — was  flying  on  the 
gale  of  love  over  the  waters  of  the  deluge  of  the  weariness 
and  longing  of  its  love,  '  not  finding  where  her  foot  might 
rest,'  f  the  compassionate  father  Noe,  in  this  last  flight, 
put  forth  the  hand  of  his  mercy,  caught  her,  and  brought 
her  into  the  ark  of  his  charity  and  love.  That  took 
place  when  the  Bridegroom,  as  in  the  stanza  now  ex- 

*   I   Cor.  xiii.  4-7.  f  Gen.  viii.  9. 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF  THE    SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    I05 

plained,  said,  '  Return,  My  Dove.'  In  the  shelter  within 
the  ark,  the  soul,  finding  all  it  desired,  and  more  than 
it  can  ever  express,  begins  to  sing  the  praises  of  the 
Beloved,  celebrating  the  magnificence  which  it  feels  and 
enjoys  in  that  union,  saying  : 

STANZAS    XIV,    XV 

THE    BRIDE 

My  Beloved  is  the  mountains, 

The  solitary  wooded  valleys, 

The  strange  islands. 

The  roaring  torrents, 

The  whisper  of  the  amorous  gales  ; 

The  tranquil  night 

At  the  approaches  of  the  dawn. 

The  silent  music, 

The  murmuring  solitude, 

The  supper  which  revives,  and  enkindles  love. 

Before  I  begin  to  explain  these  stanzas,  I  must  observe, 
in  order  that  they  and  those  which  follow  may  be  better 
understood,  that  this  spiritual  flight  signifies  a  certain 
high  estate  and  union  of  love,  whereunto,  after  many 
spiritual  exercises,  God  is  wont  to  elevate  the  soul :  it  is 
called  the  spiritual  betrothal  of  the  Word,  the  Son  of 
God.  In  the  beginning,  when  this  occurs  the  first  time, 
God  reveals  to  it  great  things  of  Himself,  makes  it 
beautiful  in  majesty  and  grandeur,  adorns  it  with  graces 
and  gifts,   and  endows   it  with  honour,   and  with  the 


I06  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XIV,  XV  ] 

knowledge  of  Himself,  as  a  bride  is  adorned  on  the  day 
of  her  betrothal.  On  this  happy  day  the  soul  not  only 
ceases  from  its  anxieties  and  loving  complaints,  but  is, 
moreover,  adorned  with  all  grace,  entering  into  a  state 
of  peace  and  delight,  and  of  the  sweetness  of  love,  as  it 
appears  from  these  stanzas,  in  which  it  does  nothing 
else  but  recount  and  praise  the  magnificence  of  the 
Beloved,  which  it  recognises  in  Him,  and  enjoys  in  the 
union  of  the  betrothal. 

2.  In  the  stanzas  that  follow,  the  soul  speaks  no  more 
of  its  anxieties  and  sufferings,  as  before,  but  of  the  sweet 
and  peaceful  intercourse  of  love  with  the  Beloved  ;  for 
now  all  its  troubles  are  over.  These  two  stanzas,  which 
I  am  about  to  explain,  contain  all  that  God  is  wont  at 
this  time  to  bestow  upon  the  soul ;  but  we  are  not  to 
suppose  that  all  souls,  thus  far  advanced,  receive  all  that 
is  here  described,  either  in  the  same  way  or  in  the  same 
degree  of  knowledge  and  of  consciousness.  Some  souls 
receive  more,  others  less  ;  some  in  one  way,  some  in 
another  ;  and  yet  all  may  be  in  the  state  of  spiritual 
betrothal.  But  in  this  stanza  the  highest  possible  is 
spoken  of,  because  that  embraces  all. 

EXPLANATION 

3.  As  in  the  ark  of  Noe  there  were  many  chambers  for 
the  different  kinds  of  animals,  as  the  Sacred  Writings  tell 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF  THE    SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     I07 

US,  and  '  all  food  that  may  be  eaten,'  *  so  the  soul,  in  its 
flight  to  the  divine  ark  of  the  bosom  of  God,  sees  therein 
not  only  the  many  mansions  of  which  our  Lord  speaks, 
but  also  all  the  food,  that  is,  all  the  magnificence  in  which 
the  soul  may  rejoice,  and  which  are  here  referred  to  by 
the  common  terms  of  these  stanzas.  These  are  substan- 
tially as  follows  : 

4.  In  this  divine  union  the  soul  has  a  vision  and 
foretaste  of  abundant  and  inestimable  riches,  and  finds 
there  all  the  repose  and  refreshment  it  desired  ;  it  attains 
to  the  secrets  of  God,  and  to  a  strange  knowledge  of  Him, 
which  is  the  food  of  those  who  know  Him  most  ;  it  is 
conscious  of  the  awful  power  of  God  beyond  all  other 
power  and  might,  tastes  of  the  wonderful  sweetness 
and  delight  of  the  Spirit,  finds  its  true  rest  and  divine 
light,  drinks  deeply  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  which 
shines  forth  in  the  harmony  of  the  creatures  and  works 
of  God ;  it  feels  itself  filled  with  all  good,  emptied, 
and  delivered  from  all  evil,  and,  above  all,  rejoices 
consciously  in  the  inestimable  banquet  of  love  which 
confirms  it  in  love.  This  is  the  substance  of  these  two 
stanzas. 

5.  The  bride  here  says  that  her  Beloved  in  Himself 
and  to  her  is  all  the  objects  she  enumerates  ;  for  in  the 
ecstatic    communications    of     God    the    soul    feels    and 

*  Gen.  vj.  21. 


I08  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XIV,  XV.] 

understands  the  truth  of  the  saying  of  St.  Francis  :  '  God 
is  mine  and  all  things  are  mine.'  And  because  God  is 
all,  and  the  soul,  and  the  good  of  all,  the  communication 
in  this  ecstasy  is  explained  by  the  consideration  that 
the  goodness  of  the  creatures  referred  to  in  these  stanzas 
is  a  reflection  of  His  goodness,  as  will  appear  from 
every  line  thereof.  All  that  is  here  set  forth  is  in  God 
eminently  in  an  infinite  way,  or  rather,  every  one  of 
these  grandeurs  is  God,  and  all  of  them  together  are 
God.  Inasmuch  as  the  soul  is  one  with  God,  it  feels 
all  things  to  be  God  according  to  the  words  of  St.  John: 
*  What  was  made,  in  Him  was  life.'  * 

6.  But  we  are  not  to  understand  this  consciousness 
of  the  soul  as  if  it  saw  the  creatures  in  jGod  as  we  see 
material  objects  in  the  light,  but  that  it  feels  all  things 
to  be  God  in  this  fruition  of  Him  ;  neither  are  we  to 
imagine  that  the  soul  sees  God  essentially  and  clearly 
because  it  has  so  deep  a  sense  of  Him  ;  for  this  is  only 
a  strong  and  abundant  communication  from  Him,  a 
glirtimering  light  of  what  He  is  in  Himself,  by  which 
the  soul  discerns  this  goodness  of  ah  things,  as  I  proceed 
to  explain. 

'  My  Beloved  is  the  mountains.' 

7.  Mountains    are    high,   fertile,   extensive,  beautiful, 

*  St.  John  i.  3,  4.     See  Stanza  vii'i.  p.  64. 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF   THE  SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    lOQ 

lovely,    flowery,    and    odorous.     These    mountains    my 
Beloved  is  to  me. 

'  The  solitary  wooded  valleys.' 

8.  Solitaiy  valleys  are  tranquil,  pleasant,  cooling, 
shady,  abounding  in  sweet  waters,  and  by  the  variety 
of  trees  growing  in  them,  and  by  the  melody  of  the 
birds  that  frequent  them,  enhven  and  delight  the  senses  ; 
their  sohtude  and  silence  procure  us  a  refreshing  rest. 
These  valleys  my  Beloved  is  to  me. 

'  The  strange  islands.' 

9.  Strange  islands  are  girt  by  the  sea  ;  they  are  also, 
because  of  the  sea,  distant  and  unknown  to  the  com- 
merce of  men.  They  produce  things  very  different  from 
those  with  wh'ch  we  are  conversant,  in  strange  ways, 
and  with  qualities  hitherto  unknown,  so  as  to  surprise 
those  who  behold  them,  and  fill  them  with  wonder. 
Thus,  then,  by  reason  of  the  great  and  marvellous 
wonders,  and  the  strange  things  that  come  to  our  know- 
ledge, far  beyond  the  common  notions  of  men,  which 
the  soul  beholds  in  God,  it  calls  Him  the  strange  islands. 
We  say  of  a  man  that  he  is  strange  for  one  of  two  reasons  : 
either  because  he  withdraws  himself  from  the  society 
of  his  fellows,  or  because  he  is  singular  or  distinguished 
in  his  life  and  conduct.  For  these  two  reasons  together 
God  is  called  strange  by  the  soul.     He  is  not  only  all 


no  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN,  XIV,  XV.] 

that  is  strange  in  undiscovered  islands,  but  His  ways, 
judgments,  and  works  are  also  strange,  new,  and  mar- 
vellous to  men. 

10.  It  is  nothing  wonderful  that  God  should  be 
strange  to  men  who  have  never  seen  Him,  seeing  that 
He  is  also  strange  to  the  holy  angels  and  the  souls  who 
see  Him  ;  for  they  neither  can  nor  shall  ever  see  Him 
perfectly.  Yea,  even  to  the  day  of  the  last  judgment 
they  will  see  in  Him  so  much  that  is  new  in  His  deep 
judgments,  in  His  acts  of  mercy  and  justice,  as  to  excite 
their  wonder  more  and  more.  Thus  God  is  the  strange 
islands  not  to  men  only,  but  to  the  angels  also  ;  only  to 
Himself  is  He  neither  strange  nor  new. 

'  The  roaring  torrents.' 

11.  Torrents  have  three  properties,  i.  They  over- 
flow all  that  is  in  their  course.  2.  They  fill  all  hollows. 
3.  They  overpower  all  other  sounds  by  their  own.  And 
hence  the  soul,  feeling  most  sweetly  that  these  three 
properties  belong  to  God,  says,  '  My  Beloved  is  the 
roaring  torrents.' 

12.  As  to  the  first  property  of  which  the  soul  is 
conscious,  it  feels  itself  to  be  so  overwhelmed  with  the 
torrent  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  so  violently  overpowered 
by  it,  that  all  the  waters  in  the  world  seem  to  it  to  have 
surrounded  it,  and  to  have  drowned  all  its  former  actions 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF   THE  SOUL   AND  ITS    BRIDEGROOM    III 

and  passions.  Though  all  this  be  violent,  yet  there  is 
nothing  painful  in  it,  for  these  rivers  are  rivers  of  peace, 
as  it  is  written,  God,  speaking  through  Isaias,  saying, 
'  I  will  decline  upon  her,  as  it  were,  a  flood  of  peace, 
and  as  a  torrent  overflowing  glory.'  *  That  is,  '  I  will 
bring  upon  the  soul,  as  it  were,  a  river  of  peace,  and 
a  torrent  overflowing  with  glory.'  Thus  this  divine 
overflowing,  like  roaring  torrents,  fills  the  soul  with 
peace  and  glory.  The  second  property  the  soul  feels 
is  that  this  divine  water  is  now  filling  the  vessels  of 
its  humility  and  the  emptiness  of  its  desires,  as  it  is 
written  :  '  He  hath  exalted  the  humble,  and  filled  the 
hungry  with  good.'  f  The  third  property  of  which 
the  soul  is  now  conscious  in  the  roaring  torrents  of 
the  Beloved  is  a  spiritual  sound  and  voice  overpowering 
all  other  sounds  and  voices  in  the  world.  The  explana- 
tion of  this  will  take  a  little  time. 

13.  This  voice,  or  this  murmuring  sound  of  the  waters, 
is  an  overflowing  so  abundant  as  to  fill  the  soul  with 
good,  and  a  power  so  mighty  seizing  upon  it  as  to  seem 
not  only  the  sound  of  many  waters,  but  a  most  loud 
roaring  of  thunder.  But  the  voice  is  a  spiritual  voice, 
unattended  by  material  sounds  or  the  pain  and  torment 
of  them,  but  rather  with  majesty,  power,  might,  delight, 
and  glory  :    it  is,  as  it  were,  a  voice,  an  infinite  interior 

*  Isa.  Ixvi.   12.  f  S.  Luke  i.  52. 


112  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XIV,  XV.J 

sound  which  endows  the  soul  with  power  and  might. 
The  Apostles  heard  in  spirit  this  voice  when  the  Holy 
Ghost  descended  upon  them  in  the  sound  '  as  of  a  mighty 
wind,'  *  as  we  read  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  In 
order  to  manifest  this  spiritual  voice,  interiorly  spoken, 
the  sound  was  heard  exteriorly,  as  of  a  rushing  wind, 
by  all  those  who  were  in  Jerusalem.  This  exterior 
manifestation  reveals  what  the  Apostles  interiorly  re- 
ceived, namely,  fulness  of  power  and  might. 

14.  So  also  when  our  Lord  Jesus  prayed  to  the  Father 
because  of  His  distress  and  the  rage  of  His  enemies.  He 
heard  an  interior  voice  from  heaven,  comforting  Him  in 
His  Sacred  Humanity.  The  sound,  solemn  and  grave, 
was  heard  exteriorly  by  the  Jews,  some  of  whom  '  said 
that  it  thundered :  others  said,  An  angel  hath  spoken  to 
Him.'  f  The  voice  outwardly  heard  was  the  outward 
sign  and  expression  of  that  strength  and  power  which 
Christ  then  inwardly  received  in  His  human  nature. 
We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  soul  does  not  hear  in 
spirit  the  spiritual  voice  because  it  is  also  outwardly 
heard.  The  spiritual  voice  is  the  effect  on  the  soul 
of  the  audible  voice,  as  material  sounds  strike  the  ear, 
and  impress  the  meaning  of  it  on  the  mind.  This  we 
learn  from  David  when  he  said,  *  He  will  give  to  His 
voice   the    voice    of   strength ;  '  J     this   strength   is   the 

*  Acts  ii.  2.  t   St.  John  xii.  29.  J   Ps.  Ixvii.  34. 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF  THE  SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    II3 

interior  voice.  He  will  give  to  His  voice — that  is,  the 
outward  voice,  audibly  heard — the  voice  of  strength 
which  is  felt  within.  God  is  an  infinite  voice,  and  com- 
municating Himself  thus  to  the  soul  produces  the  effect 
of  an  infinite  voice. 

15.  This  voice  was  heard  by  St.  John,  saying  in  the 
Apocalypse,  '  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  as  the  voice 
of  many  waters,  and  as  the  voice  of  great  thunder.' 
And,  lest  it  should  be  supposed  that  a  voice  so  strong 
was  distressing  and  harsh,  he  adds  immediately,  '  The 
voice  which  I  heard  was  as  the  voice  of  harpers  harping 
on  their  harps.'  *  Ezechiel  says  that  this  sound  as  of 
many  waters  was  '  as  it  were  the  sound  of  the  High 
God,'  I  profoundly  and  sweetly  communicated  in  it. 
This  voice  is  infinite,  because,  as  I  have  said,  it  is  God 
Who  communicates  Himself,  speaking  in  the  soul ;  but 
He  adapts  Himself  to  each  soul,  uttering  the  voice  of 
strength  according  to  its  capacity,  in  majesty  and  joy. 
And  so  the  bride  sings  in  the  Canticle  :  '  Let  Thy  voice 
sound  in  my  ears,  for  Thy  voice  is  sweet.'  % 

'  The  whisper  of  the  amorous  gales.' 

16.  Two  things  are  to  be  considered  here — gales  and 
whisper.  The  amorous  gales  are  the  virtues  and  graces 
of  the  Beloved,  which,  because  of  its  union  with  the 

*  Apoc.    xiv.    2.         t   Ezech.    i.    24.  J  Cant.    ji.    i  j. 


114  A   SPIRITUAf.   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XIV,  XV.] 

Bridegroom,  play  around  the  soul,  and,  most  lovingly 
sent  forth,  touch  it  in  their  own  substance.  The  whisper 
of  the  gales  is  a  most  sublime  and  sweet  knowledge  of 
God  and  of  His  attributes,  which  overflows  into  the 
understanding  from  the  contact  of  the  attributes  of  God 
with  the  substance  of  the  soul.  This  is  the  highest 
delight  of  which  the  soul  is  capable  in  this  life. 

17.  That  we  may  understand  this  the  better,  we  must 
keep  in  mind  that  as  in  a  gale  two  things  are  observ- 
able— the  touch  of  it,  and  the  whisper  or  sound — so  there 
are  two  things  observable  also  in  the  communications 
of  the  Bridegroom — the  sense  of  delight,  and  the  under- 
standing of  it.  As  the  touch  of  the  air  is  felt  in  the 
sense  of  touch,  and  the  whisper  of  it  heard  in  the  ear, 
so  also  the  contact  of  the  perfections  of  the  Beloved  is 
felt  and  enjoyed  in  the  touch  of  the  soul — that  is,  in  the 
substance  thereof,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
will ;  and  the  knowledge  of  the  attributes  of  God  felt  in 
the  hearing  of  the  soul — that  is,  in  the  understanding. 

18.  The  gale  is  said  to  blow  amorously  when  it  strikes 
deliciously,  satisfying  his  desire  who  is  longing  for  the 
refreshing  which  it  ministers  ;  for  it  then  revives  and 
soothes  the  sense  of  touch,  and  while  the  sense  of  touch 
is  thus  soothed,  that  of  hearing  also  rejoices  and  delights 
in  the  sound  and  whisper  of  the  gale  more  than  the 
touch  in  the  contact   of  the  air,   because  the  sense  of 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF   THE  SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    II5 

hearing  is  more  spiritual,  or,  to  speak  with  greater  cor- 
rectness, is  more  nearly  connected  with  the  spiritual 
than  is  that  of  touch,  and  the  delight  thereof  is  more 
spiritual  than  is  that  of  the  touch.  So  also,  inasmuch 
as  this  touch  of  God  greatly  satisfies  and  comforts  the 
substance  of  the  soul,  sweetly  fulfilling  its  longing  to  be 
received  into  union ;  this  union,  or  touch,  is  called 
amorous  gales,  because,  as  I  said  before,  the  perfections 
of  the  Beloved  are  by  it  communicated  to  the  soul 
lovingly  and  sweetly,  and  through  it  the  whisper  of 
knowledge  to  the  understanding.  It  is  called  whisper, 
because,  as  the  whisper  of  the  air  penetrates  subtilely 
into  the  organ  of  hearing,  so  this  most  subtile  and  delicate 
knowledge  enters  with  marvellous  sweetness  and  delight 
into  the  inmost  substance  of  the  soul,  which  is  the  highest 
of  all  delights. 

19.  The  reason  is  that  substantial  knowledge  is  now 
communicated  intelligibly,  and  stripped  of  all  accidents 
and  images,  to  the  understanding,  which  philosophers 
call  passive  or  passible,  because  inactive  without  any 
natural  efforts  of  its  own  during  this  communication. 
This  is  the  highest  delight  of  the  soul,  because  it  is  in 
the  understanding,  which  is  the  seat  of  fruition,  as  theo- 
logians teach,  and  fruition  is  the  vision  of  God.  Some 
theologians  think,  inasmuch  as  this  whisper  signifies  the 
substantial  intelligence,  that  our  father  Elias  had  a  vision 


Il6  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XIV,  XV.] 

of  God  in  the  delicate  whisper  of  the  air,  which  he  heard 
on  the  mount  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  The  Holy 
Scripture  calls  it  '  the  whistling  of  a  gentle  wind,'*  be- 
cause knowledge  is  begotten  in  the  understanding  by 
the  subtile  and  delicate  communication  of  the  Spirit. 
The  soul  calls  it  here  the  whisper  of  the  amorous  gales, 
because  it  flows  into  the  understanding  from  the  loving 
communication  of  the  perfections  of  the  Beloved.  This 
is  why  it  is  called  the  whisper  of  the  amorous  gales. 

20.  This  divine  whisper  which  enters  in  by  the  ear 
of  the  soul  is  not  only  substantial  knowledge,  but  a 
manifestation  also  of  the  truths  of  the  Divinity,  and  a 
revelation  of  the  secret  mysteries  thereof.  For  in  general, 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  every  communication  of  God  said 
to  enter  in  by  the  ear  is  a  manifestation  of  pure  truths 
to  the  understanding,  or  a  revelation  of  the  secrets  of 
God.  These  are  revelations  or  purely  spiritual  visions, 
and  are  communicated  directly  to  the  soul  without  the 
intervention  of  the  senses,  and  thus,  what  God  com- 
municates through  the  spiritual  ear  is  most  profound 
and  most  certain.  When  St.  Paul  would  express  the 
greatness  of  the  revelations  made  to  him,  he  did  not  say, 
'  I  saw  or  I  perceived  secret  words,'  but '  I  heard  secret 
words  which  it  is  not  granted  to  man  to  utter.'  f  It  is 
thought  that  St.  Paul  also  saw  God,  as  our  father  Elias, 

*  3  Kings  xix.  12.  f  2  Cor.  xii.  4. 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]     OF   THE  SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    II7 

in  the  whisper  of  a  gentle  air.  For  as  '  faith  cometh 
by  hearing  ' — so  the  Apostle  teaches — that  is,  by  the 
hearing  of  the  material  ear,  so  also  that  which  the 
faith  teaches,  the  intelligible  truth,  cometh  by  spiritual 
hearing. 

21.  The  prophet  Job,  speaking  to  God,  when  He 
revealed  Himself  unto  him,  teaches  the  same  doctrine, 
saying,  '  With  the  hearing  of  the  ear  I  have  heard  Thee, 
but  now  my  eye  seeth  Thee.'  *  It  is  clear,  from  this,  that 
to  hear  with  the  ear  of  the  soul  is  to  see  with  the  eye 
of  the  passive  understanding.  He  does  not  say,  '  I  heard 
with  the  hearing  of  my  ears,'  but  '  with  the  hearing  of  my 
ear  ' ;  nor,  '  with  the  seeing  of  my  eyes,'  but  '  with  the  eye 
of  my  understanding '  ;  the  hearing  of  the  soul  is,  therefore, 
the  vision  of  the  understanding. 

22.  Still,  we  are  not  to  think  that  what  the  soul 
perceives,  though  pure  truth,  can  be  the  perfect  and 
clear  fruition  of  Heaven.  For  though  it  be  free  from 
accidents,  as  I  said  before,!  it  is  dim  and  not  clear, 
because  it  is  contemplation,  which  in  this  life,  as 
St.  Dionysius  saith,  '  is  a  ray  of  darkness,'  J  and  thus  we 
may  say  that  it  is  a  ray  and  an  image  of  fruition,  because 
it  is  in  the  understanding,  which  is  the  seat  of  fruition. 


*  Job  xlii.  5.  t  §  20. 

I   '  De  Mystica  Theologia,'  cap.  i,  irpbs  ttjc  virepovaLov  rod  delov  ctkotovs 
aKTiva. 


Il8  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XIV,  XV.] 

This  substantial  truth,  cahed  here  a  whisper,  is  the 
*  eyes  desired  '  which  the  Beloved  showed  to  the  bride, 
who,  unable  to  bear  the  vision,  cried,  '  Turn  them  away, 

0  my  Beloved.'  * 

23.  There  is  a  passage  in  the  book  of  Job  which 
greatly  confirms  what  I  have  said  of  rapture  and  be- 
trothal, and,  because  I  consider  it  to  be  much  to  the 
purpose,  I  will  give  it  here,  though  it  may  de'ay  us  a 
little,  and  explain  those  portions  of  it  which  belong  to 
my  subject.     The  explanation  shall  be  short,  and,  when 

1  shall  have  made  it,  I  shall  go  on  to  explain  the  other 
stanza.  The  passage  is  as  follows  :  '  To  me  there  was 
spoken  a  secret  word,'  said  Ehphaz  the  Themanite,  '  and, 
as  it  were,  my  ear  by  stealth  received  the  veins  of  its 
whisper.  In  the  horror  of  a  vision  by  night,  when  deep 
sleep  is  wont  to  hold  men,  fear  held  me  and  trembling, 
and  all  my  bones  were  made  sore  afraid  :  and  when  the 
spirit  passed  before  me  the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  upright. 
There  stood  one  whose  countenance  I  knew  not,  an 
image  before  mine  eyes,  and  I  heard  the  voice,  as  it 
were,  of  a  gentle  wind.'  t 

24.  This  passage  contains  almost  all  I  said  about 
rapture  in  the  thirteenth  stanza,  where  the  bride  says  : 
'  Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved.'  The  '  word  spoken 
in    secret  '    to    Eliphaz    is    that    secret     communication 

*  Cant.  vi.  4  t   Job  iv.   12-16, 


[STAN.  XIV,  XV.]    OF   THE    SOUL  AND  ITS    BRIDEGROOM     II9 

which  by  reason  of  its  greatness  the  soul  was  not  able 
to  endure,  and,  therefore,  cried  out  :  '  Turn  them  away, 
O  my  Beloved.'  Eliphaz  says  that  his  '  ear  as  it  were 
by  stealth  received  the  veins  of  its  whisper.'  By  that 
is  meant  the  pure  substance  which  the  understanding 
receives,  for  the  '  veins  '  here  denote  the  interior  sub- 
stance. The  whisper  is  that  communication  and  touch 
of  the  virtues  whereby  the  said  substance  is  communi- 
cated to  the  understanding.  It  is  called  a  whisper  because 
of  its  great  gentleness.  And  the  soul  calls  it  the  amorous 
gales  because  it  is  lovingly  communicated.  It  is  said  to 
be  received  as  it  were  by  stealth,  for  as  that  which  is 
stolen  is  alienated,  so  this  secret  is  alien  to  man,  speaking 
in  the  order  of  nature,  because  that  which  he  received 
does  not  appertain  to  him  naturally,  and  thus  it  was  not 
lawful  for  him  to  receive  it  ;  neither  was  it  lawful  for 
St.  Paul  to  repeat  what  he  heard.  For  this  reason  the 
prophet  saith  twice,  '  My  secret  to  myself,  my  secret 
to  myself.'  * 

25.  When  Eliphaz  speaks  of  the  horror  of  the  vision 
by  night,  and  of  the  fear  and  trembling  that  seized  upon 
him,  he  refers  to  the  awe  and  dread  that  comes  upon 
the  soul  naturally  in  rapture,  because  in  its  natural 
strength  it  is  unable,  as  I  said  before, f  to  endure  the 
communication  of  the  Spirit  of  God.     The  prophet  gives 

*  Is.  xxiv.   16.  t  Stan.  xiii.  §  i. 


120  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XIV,  XV.] 

US  to  understand  that,  as  when  sleep  is  about  to  fall 
upon  men,  a  certain  vision  which  they  call  a  nightmare 
is  wont  to  oppress  and  terrify  them  in  the  interval 
between  sleeping  and  waking,  which  is  the  moment  of 
the  approach  of  sleep,  so  in  the  spiritual  passage  between 
the  sleep  of  natural  ignorance  and  the  waking  of  the 
supernatural  understanding,  which  is  the  beginning  of 
an  ecstasy  or  rapture,  the  spiritual  vision  then  revealed 
makes  the  soul  fear  and  tremble. 

26.  '  All  my  bones  were  affrighted ' ;  that  is,  were 
shaken  and  disturbed.  By  this  he  meant  a  certain 
dislocation  of  the  bones  which  takes  place  when  the  soul 
falls  into  an  ecstasy.  This  is  clearly  expressed  by  Daniel 
when  he  saw  the  angel,  saying,  '  O  my  lord,  at  the  sight 
of  thee  my  joints  are  loosed.'  *  '  When  the  spirit  passed 
before  me  ' — that  is,  '  When  my  spirit  was  made  to  tran- 
scend the  ways  and  limitations  of  nature  in  ecstasies  and 
raptures  ' — '  the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  upright ' ;  that  is, 
my  body  was  chilled,  and  the  flesh  contracted,  like  that 
of  a  dead  man.' 

27.  '  There  stood  One  ' — that  is  God,  Who  reveals 
Himself  after  this  manner — '  \\'hose  countenance  I 
knew  not ' :  in  these  communications  or  visions,  however 
high  they  may  be,  tlic  soul  neither  knows  nor  beholds 
the  face  and  being  of  God.     '  An  image  before  my  eyes  '  ; 

*  Dan,  X.  16. 


[STAN.  XV.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  121 

that  is,  the  knowledge  of  the  secret  words  was  most 
deep,  as  it  were  the  image  and  face  of  God  ;  but  still  this 
is  not  the  essential  vision  of  God.  '  I  heard  the  voice, 
as  it  were,  of  a  gentle  wind '  ;  this  is  the  whisper  of  the 
amorous  gales — that  is,  of  the  Beloved  of  the  soul. 

28.  But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  visits 
of  God  are  always  attended  by  such  terrors  and  distress 
of  nature  :  that  happens  to  them  only  who  are  entering 
the  state  of  illumination  and  perfection,  and  in  this 
kind  of  communications  ;  for  in  others  they  come  with 
great  sweetness. 

STANZA    XV 

'  The  tranquil  night.'  In  this  spiritual  sleep  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Beloved  the  soul  is  in  possession  and  fruition 
of  all  the  calm,  repose,  and  quiet  of  a  peaceful  night, 
and  receives  at  the  same  time  in  God  a  certain  dim, 
unfathomable  divine  intelligence.  This  is  the  reason 
why  it  says  that  the  Beloved  is  to  it  the  tranquil  night. 

2.  'At  the  approaches  of  the  dawn.'  This  tranquil 
night  is  not  like  a  night  of  darkness,  but  rather  hke 
the  night  when  the  sunrise  is  drawing  nigh.  This  tran- 
quillity and  repose  in  God  is  not  all  darkness  to  the  soul, 
as  the  dark  night  is,  but  rather  tranquilHty  and  repose  in 
the  divine  light  and  in  a  new  knowledge  of  God,  whereby 


122  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XV.] 

the  mind,  most  sweetly  tranquil,  is  raised  to  a  divine 
light. 

3.  This  divine  light  is  here  very  appropriately  called 
the  approaches  of  the  dawn,  that  is,  the  twilight  ;  for 
as  the  twilight  of  the  morn  disperses  the  darkness  of  the 
night  and  reveals  the  light  of  day,  so  the  mind,  tranquil 
and  reposing  in  God,  is  raised  up  from  the  darkness  of 
natural  knowledge  to  the  morning  light  of  the  super- 
natural knowledge  of  God  ;  not  clear,  indeed,  as  I  have 
said,  but  dim,  like  the  night  at  the  approaches  of  the 
dawn.  For  as  it  is  then  neither  wholly  night  nor  wholly 
day,  but,  as  they  say,  twilight,  so  this  solitude  and  divine 
repose  is  neither  perfectly  illumined  by  the  divine  light 
nor  yet  perfectly  alien  from  it. 

4.  In  this  tranquillity  the  understanding  is  lifted  up 
in  a  strange  way  above  its  natural  comprehension  to  the 
divine  light :  it  is  like  a  man  who,  after  a  profound  sleep, 
opens  his  eyes  to  unexpected  light.  This  knowledge  is 
referred  to  by  David  when  he  says,  '  I  have  watched, 
and  am  become  as  the  lonely  sparrow  on  the  housetop  '  ;  * 
that  is,  '  I  opened  the  eyes  of  my  understanding,  and  was 
raised  up  above  all  natural  comprehension,  lonely, 
without  them,  on  the  housetop,  lifted  up  above  all  earthly 
considerations.'  He  says  that  he  was  '  become  as  the 
lonely  sparrow,'  because,  in  this  kind  of  contemplation, 

*  Ps.  ci.  8. 


[STAN.  XV.]      OF    THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  123 

the  spirit  has  the  properties  of  the  sparrow.     These  are 
five  in  number  : 

i.  It  frequents  in  general  high  places  ;  and  thespirit, 
in  this  state,  rises  to  the  highest  contemplation. 

ii.  It  is  ever  turning  its  face  in  the  direction  of  the 
wind,  and  the  spirit  turns  its  affections  thither  whence 
comes  the  spirit  of  love,  which  is  God. 

iii.  It  is  in  general  solitary,  abstaining  from  the 
companionship  of  others,  and  flying  away  when  any 
approach  it  :  so  the  spirit,  in  contemplation,  is  far  away 
from  all  worldly  thoughts,  lonely  in  its  avoidance  of 
them  ;  neither  does  it  consent  to  anything  except  to 
this  solitude  in  God. 

iv.  It  sings  most  sweetly,  and  so  also  does  the 
spirit  at  this  time  sing  unto  God  ;  for  the  praises 
which  it  offers  up  proceed  from  the  sweetest  love, 
most  pleasing  to  itself,  and  most  precious  in  the  sight 
of  God. 

V.  It  is  of  no  definite  colour  ;  so  also  is  the  perfect 
spirit,  which  in  this  ecstasy  is  not  only  without  any 
tinge  of  sensual  affection  or  self-love,  but  also  without 
any  particular  consideration  of  the  things  of  heaven  or 
earth ;  neither  can  it  give  any  account  whatever  of 
them,  because  it  has  entered  into  the  abyss  of  the  know- 
ledge of  God, 

'  The    silent    music' 


124  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XV.] 

5.  In  this  silence  and  tranquillity  of  the  night,  and 
in  this  knowledge  of  the  divine  light,  the  soul  discerns 
a  marvellous  arrangement  and  disposition  of  God's 
wisdom  in  the  diversities  of  His  creatures  and  operations. 
All  these,  and  each  one  of  them,  have  a  certain 
correspondence  with  God,  whereby  each,  by  a  voice 
peculiar  to  itself,  proclaims  what  there  is  in  itself  of  God, 
so  as  to  form  a  concert  of  sublimest  melody,  transcending 
all  the  harmonies  of  the  world.  This  is  the  silent  music, 
because  it  is  knowledge  tranquil  and  calm,  without 
audible  voice  ;  and  thus  the  sweetness  of  music  and  the 
repose  of  silence  are  enjoyed  in  it.  The  soul  says  that 
the  Beloved  is  silent  music,  because  this  harmony  of 
spiritual  music  is  in  Him  understood  and  felt.  He  is 
not  this  only,  He  is  also — 

'  The  murmuring  solitude.' 

6.  This  is  almost  the  same  as  the  silent  music.  For 
though  the  music  is  inaudible  to  the  senses  and  the 
natural  powers,  it  is  a  solitude  most  full  of  sound  to 
the  spiritual  powers.  These  powers  being  in  solitude, 
emptied  of  all  forms  and  natural  apprehensions,  may 
well  receive  in  spirit,  like  a  resounding  voice,  the  spiritual 
impression  of  the  majesty  of  God  in  Himself  and  in  His 
creatures  ;  as  it  happened  to  St.  John,  who  heard  in 
spirit  as  it  were  '  the  voice  of  harpers  harping  on  their 


[STAN.  XV.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  125 

harps.'  *  St.  John  heard  this  in  spirit  :  it  was  not 
material  harps  that  he  heard,  but  a  certain  knowledge 
that  he  had  of  the  praises  of  the  blessed,  which  every  one 
of  them,  each  in  his  own  degree  of  glory,  is  continually 
singing  before  God.  It  is  as  it  were  music.  For  as 
every  one  of  the  saints  had  the  gifts  of  God  in  a  different 
way,  so  every  one  of  them  sings  His  praises  in  a  different 
way,  and  yet  all  harmonise  in  one  concert  of  love,  as  in 
music. 

7.  In  the  same  way,  in  this  tranquil  contemplation, 
the  soul  beholds  all  creatures,  not  only  the  highest,  but 
the  lowest  also,  each  one  according  to  the  gift  of  God 
to  it,  sending  forth  the  voice  of  its  witness  to  what  God 
is.  It  beholds  each  one  magnifying  Him  in  its  own 
way,  and  possessing  Him  according  to  its  particular 
capacity  ;  and  thus  all  these  voices  together  unite  in 
one  strain  in  praise  of  God's  greatness,  wisdom,  and 
marvellous  knowledge.  This  is  the  meaning  of  those 
words  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom  :  '  The 
Spirit  of  our  Lord  hath  replenished  the  whole  world, 
and  that  which  containeth  all  things  hath  the  knowledge 
of  the  voice.'  f  '  The  voice  '  is  the  murmuring  solitude, 
which  the  soul  is  said  to  know,  namely,  the  witness 
which  all  things  bear  to  God.  Inasmuch  as  the  soul 
hears  this  music  only  in  solitude  and  in  estrangement 

*  Apoc.  xiv.  2.  t  Wisd.  i.  7. 


126  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XV.] 

from   all   outward   things,   it   calls   it   silent   music   and 
murmuring  solitude.     These  are  the  Beloved. 

*  The  supper  which  revives,  and  enkindles  love.' 

8.  Lovers  find  recreation,  satisfaction,  and  love  in 
feasts.  And  because  the  Beloved  in  this  sweet  com- 
munication produces  these  three  effects  in  the  soul,  He 
is  here  said  to  be  the  supper  that  revives,  and  enkindles 
love.  In  Holy  Scripture  supper  signifies  the  divine 
vision,  for  as  supper  is  the  conclusion  of  the  day's  labours, 
and  the  beginning  of  the  night's  repose,  so  the  soul  in 
this  tranquil  knowledge  is  made  to  feel  that  its  trials 
are  over,  the  possession  of  good  begun,  and  its  love  of 
God  increased.  Hence,  then,  the  Beloved  is  to  the  soul 
the  supper  that  revives,  in  being  the  end  of  its  trials, 
and  that  enkindles  love,  in  being  the  beginning  of  the 
fruition  of  all  good. 

9.  That  we  may  see  more  clearly  how  the  Bridegroom 
is  the  supper  of  the  soul,  we  must  refer  to  those  words 
of  the  Beloved  in  the  Apocalypse  :  '  Behold,  I  stand  at 
the  door  and  knock.  If  any  man  shall  hear  My  voice, 
and  open  to  Me  the  gate,  I  will  enter  in  to  him,  and 
will  sup  with  him,  and  he  with  Me.'  *  It  is  evident 
from  these  words  that  He  brings  the  supper  with  Him, 
which  is  nothing  else  but  His  own  sweetness  and  delights, 

*  Apoc.  iii.  20. 


[STAN.  XV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  I27 

wherein  He  rejoiceth  Himself,  and  which  He,  uniting 
Himself  to  the  soul,  communicates  to  it,  making  it  a 
partaker  of  His  joy  :  for  this  is  the  meaning  of  '  I  will 
sup  with  him,  and  he  with  Me.'  These  words  describe 
the  effect  of  the  divine  union  of  the  soul  with  God,  wherein 
it  shares  the  very  goods  of  God  Himself,  Who  communi- 
cates them  graciously  and  abundantly  to  it.  Thus  the 
Beloved  is  Himself  the  supper  which  revives,  and  en- 
kindles love,  refreshing  the  soul  with  His  abundance, 
and  enkindling  its  love  in  His  graciousness. 

10.  But  before  I  proceed  to  explain  the  stanzas  which 
follow,  I  must  observe  that,  in  the  state  of  betrothal, 
wherein  the  soul  enjoys  this  tranquilhty,  and  wherein 
it  receives  all  that  it  can  receive  in  this  life,  we  are  not 
to  suppose  its  tranquillity  to  be  perfect,  but  that  the 
higher  part  of  it  is  tranquil  ;  for  the  sensual  part,  except 
in  the  state  of  spiritual  marriage,  never  loses  all  its  im- 
perfect habits,  and  its  powers  are  never  wholly  subdued, 
as  I  shall  show  hereafter.*  What  the  soul  receives 
now  is  all  that  it  can  receive  in  the  state  of  be- 
trothal, for  in  that  of  the  marriage  the  blessings  are 
greater.  Though  the  bride-soul  has  great  joy  in  these 
visits  of  the  Beloved  in  the  state  of  betrothal,  still 
it  has  to  suffer  from  His  absence,  to  endure  trouble 
and  afflictions  in  the  lower   part,  and  at  the  hands  of 

*  stanza  xxvi. 


128  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XV.] 

the  devil.  But  all  this  ceases  in  the  state  of  spiritual 
marriage. 

NOTE 

The  bride  now  in  possession  of  the  virtues  in  their 
perfection,  whereby  she  is  ordinarily  rejoicing  in  peace 
when  the  Beloved  visits  her,  is  now  and  then  in  the 
fruition  of  the  fragrance  and  sweetness  of  those  virtues 
in  the  highest  degree,  because  the  Beloved  touches 
them  within  her,  just  as  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of 
the  lilies  and  other  flowers  when  in  their  bloom  are 
perceived  when  we  handle  them.  For  in  many  of  these 
visits  the  soul  discerns  within  itself  all  its  virtues  which 
God  has  given  it  ;  He  shedding  light  upon  them.  The 
soul  now,  with  marvellous  joy  and  sweetness  of  love, 
binds  them  together  and  presents  them  to  the  Beloved 
as  a  nosegay  of  beautiful  flowers,  and  the  Beloved  in 
accepting  them — for  He  truly  accepts  them  then — 
accepts  thereby  a  great  service.  All  this  takes  place 
within  the  soul,  feeling  that  the  Beloved  is  within  it  as 
on  His  own  couch,  for  the  soul  presents  itself  with  the 
virtues  which  is  the  greatest  service  it  can  render  Him, 
and  thus  this  is  one  of  the  greatest  joys  which  in  its 
interior  converse  with  God  the  soul  is  wont  to  receive 
in  presents  of  this  kind  made  to  the  Beloved. 

2.     The  devil,  beholding  this  prosperity  of  the  soul. 


[STAN.  XV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  I29 

and  in  his  great  malice  envying  all  the  good  he  sees  in 
it,  now  uses  all  his  power,  and  has  recourse  to  all  his 
devices,  in  order  to  thwart  it,  if  possible,  even  in  the 
slightest  degree.     He  thinks  it  of  more  consequence  to 
keep  back  the  soul,  even  for  an  instant,  from  this  abund- 
ance, bliss,  and  delight,  than  to  make  others  fall  into 
many  and  mortal  sins.     Other  souls  have  little  or  nothing 
to  lose,  while  this  soul  has  much,  having  gained  many 
and  great  treasures  ;    for  the  loss  of  one  grain  of  refined 
gold  is  greater  than  the  loss  of  many  of  the  baser  metals. 
3.     The    devil    here    has    recourse    to    the    sensual 
appetites,  though  now  they  can  give  him  generally  but 
little  or  no  help  because  they  are  mortified,  and  because 
he  cannot  turn  them  to  any  great  account  in  distracting 
the  imagination.    Sometimes  he  stirs  up  many  movements 
in  the  sensitive  part  of  the  soul,  and  causes  other  vexa- 
tions, spiritual  as  well  as  sensual,  from  which  the  soul 
is  unable  to  deliver  itself  until  our  Lord  shall  send  His 
angel,  as  it  is  written,  '  The  angel  of  the  Lord  shall  put 
in  himself  about  them  that  fear  Him,  and  shall  deliver 
them  ;  '  *  and  so  establish  peace,  both  in  the  spiritual 
and  sensitive  parts  of  the  soul.     With  a  view  to  show 
forth  this  truth,  and  to  ask  this  favour,  the  soul,  appre- 
hensive by  experience  of  the  craft  which  the  devil  makes 
use  of  to  thwart  this  good,  addressing  itself  to  the  angels, 

*  Ps.  xxxiii.  8. 


130  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVI.] 

whose  function  it  is  to  succour  it  at  this  time  by  putting 
the  evil  spirits  to  flight,  speaks  as  in  the  following 
stanza  : 

STANZA    XVI 

Catch  us  the  foxes, 

For  our  vineyard  hath  flourished  ; 

While  of  roses 

We  make  a  nosegay,  *  -  * 

And  let  no  one  appear  on  the  hill. 

The  soul,  anxious  that  this  interior  delight  of  love,  which 
is  the  flowers  of  the  vineyard,  should  not  be  interrupted, 
either  by  envious  and  malicious  devils,  or  the  raging 
desires  of  sensuality,  or  the  various  comings  and  goings 
of  the  imagination,  or  any  other  consciousness  or  presence 
of  created  things,  calls  upon  the  angels  to  seize  and 
hinder  all  these  from  interrupting  its  practice  of  interior 
love,  in  the  joy  and  sweetness  of  which  the  soul  and 
the  Son  of  God  communicate  and  delight  in  the  virtues 
and  graces.  ,,  ,  .1  ^.^ 

*  Catch  us  the  foxes,  for  our  vineyard  hath  flourished.' 

2.  The  vineyard  is  the  plantation  in  this  holy  soul 
of  all  the  virtues  which  minister  to  it  the  wine  of  sweet 
taste.  The  vineyard  of  the  soul  is  then  flourishing  when 
it  is  united  in  will  to  the  Bridegroom,  and  delights  itself 
in  Him  in  all  the  virtues.     Sometimes,  as  I  have  just 


[STAN.  XVI.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM         I3I 

said,  the  memory  and  the  fancy  are  assailed  by  various 
forms  and  imaginings,  and  divers  motions  and  desires 
trouble  the  sensual  part.  The  great  variety  and  diversity 
of  these  made  David  say,  when  he  felt  the  inconvenience 
and  the  trouble  of  them  as  he  was  drinking  of  the  sweet 
wine  of  the  spirit,  thirsting  greatly  after  God  :  '  For 
Thee  my  soul  hath  thirsted,  for  Thee  my  flesh,  O  how 
many  ways.'  * 

3.  Here  the  soul  calls  the  whole  troop  of  desires  and 
stirrings  of  sense,  foxes,  because  of  the  great  resemblance 
between  them  at  this  time.  As  foxes  pretend  to  be 
asleep  that  they  may  pounce  upon  their  prey  when  it 
comes  in  their  way,  so  all  the  desires  and  powers  of 
sense  in  the  soul  are  asleep  until  the  flowers  of  virtue 
grow,  flourish,  and  bloom.  Then  the  desires  and  powers 
of  sense  awake  to  resist  the  Spirit  and  domineer.  '  The 
flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,'  f  and  as  the  inclination 
of  it  is  towards  the  sensual  desires,  it  is  disgusted  as 
soon  as  it  tastes  of  the  Spirit,  and  herein  the  desires 
prove  extremely  troublesome  to  spiritual  sweetness. 

'  Catch  us  the  foxes.' 

4.  The  evil  spirits  now  molest  the  soul  in  two  ways. 
They  vehemently  excite  the  desires,  and  employ  them 
with    other    imaginations    to    assail    the    peaceful    and 

*  Ps.  Ixii.  2,  t  Gal.  v.  17, 


132  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVI.] 

flourishing  kingdom  of  the  soul.  Then — and  this  is  much 
worse — when  they  do  not  succeed  in  stirring  up  the  desires, 
they  assail  the  soul  with  bodily  pains  and  noises  in 
order  to  distract  it.  And,  what  is  still  more  serious, 
they  fight  with  spiritual  horror  and  dread,  and  sometimes 
with  fearful  torments,  which,  at  this  time,  if  God  permits 
them,  they  can  most  effectually  bring  about,  for  inasmuch 
as  the  soul  is  now  spiritually  detached,  so  as  to  perform 
its  spiritual  exercises,  the  devil  being  himself  a  spirit 
presents  himself  before  it  with  great  ease. 

5.  At  other  times  the  evil  spirit  assails  the  soul  with 
other  horrors,  before  it  begins  to  have  the  fruition  of 
the  sweet  flowers,  when  God  is  beginning  to  draw  it  forth 
out  of  the  house  of  sense  that  it  may  enter  on  the  interior 
exercises  in  the  garden  of  the  Bridegroom,  for  he  knows 
well  that  once  entered  into  this  state  of  recollection  it 
is  there  so  protected  that,  notwithstanding  all  he  can 
do,  he  cannot  hurt  it.  Very  often,  too,  when  the  devil 
goes  forth  to  meet  the  soul,  the  soul  becomes  quickly 
recollected  in  the  secret  depths  of  its  interior,  where  it 
finds  great  sweetness  and  protection  ;  then  those  terrors 
of  Satan  are  so  far  off  that  they  not  only  produce  no 
fear,  but  are  even  the  occasion  of  peace  and  joy.  The 
bride,  in  the  Canticle,  speaks  of  these  terrors,  saying, 
*  My  soul  troubled  me  for  the  chariots  of  Aminadab.'  * 

*  Cant.  vi.   11. 


[STAN.  XVI.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  I33 

Aminadab  is  the  evil  spirit,  and  his  chariots  are  his 
assaults  upon  the  soul,  which  he  makes  with  great 
violence,  noise,  and  confusion. 

6.  The  bride  also  says  what  the  soul  says  here, 
namely  :  '  Catch  us  the  little  foxes  that  destroy  the 
vineyards  ;  for  our  vineyard  hath  flourished.'  *  She 
does  not  say,  '  Catch  me,'  but  '  Catch  us,'  because  she  is 
speaking  of  herself  and  the  Beloved  ;  for  they  are  one, 
and  enjoy  the  flourishing  of  the  vineyard  together. 

7.  The  reason  why  the  vineyard  is  said  to  be 
flourishing  and  not  bearing  fruit  is  this  :  the  soul  in 
this  hfe  has  the  fruition  of  virtues,  however  perfect  they 
may  be,  only  in  their  flower,  because  the  fruit  of  them 
is  reserved  for  the  life  to  come. 

'  While  of  roses  we  make  a  nosegay.' 

8.  Now,  at  this  time,  while  the  soul  is  rejoicing  in 
the  flourishing  of  the  vineyard,  and  delighting  itself  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Beloved,  all  its  virtues  are  perfect, 
exhibiting  themselves  to  the  soul,  and  sending  forth 
great  sweetness  and  delight.  The  soul  feels  them  to 
be  in  itself  and  in  God  so  as  to  seem  to  be  one  vineyard 
most  flourishing  and  pleasing  belonging  to  both,  wherein 
they  feed  and  delight.  Then  the  soul  binds  all  its  virtues 
together,  makes  acts  of  love  in  each  of  them  separately, 

*  Cant.  ii.   15. 


134  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVI.] 

and  in  all  together,  and  then  offers  them  all  to  the 
Beloved,  with  great  tenderness  of  love  and  sweetness, 
and  in  this  the  Beloved  helps  it,  for  without  His  help 
and  favour  it  cannot  make  this  union  and  oblation  of 
virtue  to  the  Beloved.  Hence  it  says,  '  We  make  a 
nosegay ' — that  is  '  the  Beloved  and  myself.' 

9.  This  union  of  the  virtues  is  called  a  nosegay  ; 
for  as  a  nosegay  is  cone-like  in  form,  and  a  cone  is  strong, 
containing  and  embracing  many  pieces  firmly  joined 
together,  so  this  cone-like  nosegay  of  the  virtues  which 
the  soul  makes  for  the  Beloved  is  the  uniform  perfection 
of  the  soul  which  firmly  and  solidly  contains  and 
embraces  many  perfections,  great  virtues,  and  rich 
endowments ;  for  all  the  perfections  and  virtues  of 
the  soul  unite  together  to  form  but  one.  And  while 
this  perfection  is  being  accomplished,  and  when  ac- 
complished, offered  to  the  Beloved  on  the  part  of  the 
soul,  it  becomes  necessary  to  catch  the  foxes  that  they 
may  not  hinder  this  mutual  interior  communication. 
The  soul  prays  not  only  that  this  nosegay  may  be  carefully 
made,  but  also  adds,  '  And  let  no  one  appear  on  the  hill.' 

10.  This  divine  interior  exercise  requires  solitude 
and  detachment  from  all  things,  whether  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  soul,  which  is  that  of  sense,  or  in  the  higher, 
which  is  the  rational.  These  two  divisions  comprise 
all  the  faculties  and  senses  of  man,  and  are  here  called 


[STAN.  XVI.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ItS   BRIDEGROOM         I35 

the  hill ;  because  all  our  natural  notions  and  desires 
being  in  them,  as  quarry  on  a  hill,  the  devil  lays  in  wait 
among  these  notions  and  desires,  in  order  that  he  may 
injure  the  soul. 

'  And  let  no  one  appear  on  the  hill.' 

11.  That  is,  let  no  representation  or  image  of  any 
object  whatever,  appertaining  to  any  of  these  faculties 
or  senses,  appear  in  the  presence  of  the  soul  and  the 
Bridegroom  :  in  other  words,  let  the  spiritual  powers 
of  the  soul,  memory,  understanding,  and  will  be  divested 
of  all  notions,  particular  inclinations,  or  considerations 
whatsoever  ;  and  let  all  the  senses  and  faculties  of  the 
body,  interior  as  well  as  exterior,  the  imagination,  the 
fancy,  the  sight  and  hearing,  and  the  rest  be  divested  of 
all  occasions  of  distractions,  of  all  forms,  images,  and 
representations,  and  of  all  other  natural  operations. 

12.  The  soul  speaks  in  this  way  because  it  is  necessary 
for  the  perfect  fruition  of  this  communication  of  God, 
that  all  the  senses  and  powers,  both  interior  and  exterior, 
should  be  disencumbered  and  emptied  of  their  proper 
objects  and  operations  ;  for  the  more  active  they  are, 
the  greater  will  be  the  hindrance  which  they  will  occasion. 
The  soul  having  attained  to  a  certain  interior  union 
of  love,  the  spiritual  faculties  of  it  are  no  longer  active, 
and  still  less  those  of  the  body  ;    for  now  that  the  union 


136  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVI.] 

of  love  is  actually  wrought  in  love,  the  faculties  of  the 
soul  cease  from  their  exertions,  because  now  that  the 
goal  is  reached  all  employment  of  means  is  at  an  end. 
What  the  soul  at  this  time  has  to  do  is  to  wait  lovingly 
upon  God,  and  this  waiting  is  love  in  a  continuation  of 
unitive  love.  Let  no  one,  therefore,  appear  on  the  hill, 
but  the  will  only  waiting  on  the  Beloved  in  the  offering 
up  of  self  and  of  all  the  virtues  in  the  way  described. 


NOTE 

For  the  clearer  understanding  of  the  following  stanza, 
we  must  keep  in  mind  that  the  absence  of  the  Beloved, 
from  which  the  soul  suffers  in  the  state  of  spiritual 
betrothal,  is  an  exceedingly  great  affliction,  and  at 
times  greater  than  all  other  trials  whatever.  The  reason 
is  this  :  the  love  of  the  soul  for  God  is  now  so  vehement 
and  deep  that  the  pain  of  His  absence  is  vehement  and 
deep  also.  This  pain  is  increased  also  by  the  annoyance 
which  comes  from  intercourse  with  creatures,  which  is 
very  great ;  for  the  soul,  under  the  pressure  of  its 
quickened  desire  of  union  with  God,  finds  all  other 
conversation  most  painful  and  difficult  to  endure.  It 
is  like  a  stone  in  its  flight  to  the  place  whither  it  is  rapidly 
tending  ;  every  obstacle  it  meets  with  occasions  a 
violent  shock.     And  as  the  soul  has  tasted  of  the  sweet- 


[STAN.  XVII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I37 

ness  of  the  Beloved's  visits,  which  are  more  desirable 
than  gold  and  all  that  is  beautiful,  it  therefore  dreads 
even  a  momentary  absence,  and  addresses  itself  as  follows 
to  aridities,  and  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Bridegroom  : — 

STANZA   XVII 

Killing  north  wind,  cease, 

Come,  south  wind,  that  awakenest  love  ! 

Blow  through  my  garden. 

And  let  its  odours  flow. 

And  the  Beloved  shall  feed  among  the  floiuers. 

Beside  the  causes  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  stanza, 
spiritual  dryness  also  hinders  the  fruition  of  this  interior 
sweetness  of  which  I  have  been  speaking,  and  afraid  of 
it  the  soul  had  recourse  to  two  expedients,  to  which  it 
refers  in  the  present  stanza.  The  first  is  to  shut  the 
door  against  it  by  unceasing  prayer  and  devotion.  The 
second,  to  invoke  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  it  is  He  Who  drives 
away  dryness  from  the  soul,  maintains  and  increases 
its  love  of  the  Bridegroom — that  He  may  establish  in 
it  the  practice  of  virtue,  and  all  this  to  the  end  that 
the  Son  of  God,  its  Bridegroom,  may  rejoice  and  delight 
in  it  more  and  more,  for  its  only  aim  is  to  please  the 
Beloved. 

'  Killing  north  wind,  cease.' 

2.     The  north  wind  is  exceedingly  cold  ;    it  dries  up 


138  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVII.] 

and  parches  flowers  and  plants,  and  at  the  least,  when 
it  blows,  causes  them  to  draw  in  and  shrink.  So,  dryness 
of  spirit  and  the  sensible  absence  of  the  Beloved,  because 
they  produce  the  same  effect  on  the  soul,  exhausting  the 
sweetness  and  fragrance  of  virtue,  are  here  called  the 
killing  north  wind ;  for  all  the  virtues  and  affective 
devotions  of  the  soul  are  then  dead.  Hence  the  soul 
addresses  itself  to  it,  saying,  '  Killing  north  wind,  cease,' 
These  words  mean  that  the  soul  applies  itself  to  spiritual 
exercises,  in  order  to  escape  aridity.  But  the  communi- 
cations of  God  are  now  so  interior  that  by  no  exertion 
of  its  faculties  can  the  soul  attain  to  them  if  the  Spirit 
of  the  Bridegroom  do  not  cause  these  movements  of 
love.     The  soul,  therefore,  addresses  Him,  saying  : 

'  Come,  south  wind,  that  awakenest  love.' 

3.  The  south  wind  is  another  wind  commonly  called 
the  south-west  \vind.  It  is  soft,  and  brings  rain  ;  it 
makes  the  grass  and  plants  grow,  flowers  to  blossom 
and  scatter  their  perfume  abroad  ;  in  short,  it  is  the  very 
opposite  in  its  effects  of  the  north  wind.  By  it  is  meant 
here  the  Holy  Ghost,  Who  awakeneth  love  ;  for  when 
this  divine  Breath  breathes  on  the  soul,  it  so  inflames 
and  refreshes  it,  so  quickens  the  will,  and  stirs  up  the 
desires,  which  were  before  low  and  asleep  as  to  the 
love  of  God,  that  we  may  well  say  of  it  that  it  quickens 


[STAN.  XVII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I39 

the  love  between  Him  and  the  soul.  The  prayer  of 
the  soul  to  the  Holy  Ghost  is  thus  expressed,  '  Blow 
through  my  garden.' 

4.  This  garden  is  the  soul  itself.  For  as  the  soul 
said  of  itself  before,  that  it  was  a  flourishing  vineyard, 
because  the  flowers  of  virtue  which  are  in  it  give  forth 
the  wine  of  sweetness,  so  here  it  says  of  itself  that  it 
is  a  garden,  because  the  flowers  of  perfection  and  the 
virtues  are  planted  in  it,  flourish,  and  grow. 

5.  Observe,  too,  that  the  expression  is  '  blow  through 
my  garden,'  not  blow  in  it.  There  is  a  great  difference 
between  God's  breathing  into  the  soul  and  through  it. 
To  breathe  into  the  soul  is  to  infuse  into  it  graces,  gifts, 
and  virtues  ;  to  breathe  through  it  is,  on  the  part  of 
God,  to  touch  and  move  its  virtues  and  perfections  now 
possessed,  renewing  them  and  stirring  them  in  such  a 
way  that  they  send  forth  their  marvellous  fragrance 
and  sweetness.  Thus  aromatic  spices,  when  shaken  or 
touched,  give  forth  the  abundant  odours  which  are  not 
otherwise  so  distinctly  perceived.  The  soul  is  not 
always  in  the  conscious  fruition  of  its  acquired  and 
infused  virtues,  because,  in  this  life,  they  are  like  flowers 
in  seed,  or  in  bud,  or  like  aromatic  spices  covered  over, 
the  perfume  of  which  is  not  perceived  till  they  are  exposed 
and  shaken. 

6.     But  God  sometimes  is  so  merciful  to  the  bride- 


140  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVII.] 

soul,  as — the  Holy  Ghost  breathing  meanwhile  through 
the  flourishing  garden— to  open  these  buds  of  virtue 
and  expose  the  aromatic  herbs  of  the  soul's  gifts,  per- 
fections, and  riches,  to  manifest  to  it  its  interior 
treasures  and  to  reveal  to  it  all  its  beauty.  It  is  then 
marvellous  to  behold,  and  sweet  to  feel,  the  abundance 
of  the  gifts  now  revealed  in  the  soul,  and  the  beauty 
of  the  flowers  of  virtue  now  flourishing  in  it.  No 
language  can  describe  the  fragrance  which  every  one  of 
them  diffuses,  each  according  to  its  kind.  This  state 
of  the  soul  is  referred  to  in  the  words,  '  Let  its  odours 
flow.' 

7.  So  abundant  are  these  odours  at  times,  that  the 
soul  seems  enveloped  in  delight  and  bathed  in  inestimable 
bliss.  Not  only  is  it  conscious  itself  of  them,  but  they 
even  overflow  it,  so  that  those  who  know  how  to  discern 
these  things  can  perceive  them.  The  soul  in  this  state 
seems  to  them  as  a  delectable  garden,  full  of  the  joys 
and  riches  of  God.  This  is  observable  in  holy  souls, 
not  only  when  the  flowers  open,  but  almost  always  ; 
for  they  have  a  certain  air  of  grandeur  and  dignity 
which  inspires  the  beholders  with  awe  and  reverence, 
because  of  the  supernatural  effects  of  their  close  and 
familiar  converse  with  God.  We  have  an  illustration  of 
this  in  the  life  of  Moses,  the  sight  of  whose  face  the 
people  could  not  bear,  by  reason  of  the  glory  that  rested 


ISTAN.  XVII.]      OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM       I41 

upon    it — the    effect    of   his    speaking    to    God  face    to 
face.* 

8.  While  the  Holy  Ghost  is  breathing  through  the 
garden — this  is  His  visitation  of  the  soul — the  Bride- 
groom Son  of  God  communicates  Himself  to  it  in  a 
profound  way,  enamoured  of  it.  It  is  for  this  that  He 
sends  the  Holy  Spirit  before  Him — as  He  sent  the 
Apostles  t — to  make  ready  the  chamber  of  the  soul 
His  bride,  comforting  it  with  delight,  setting  its  garden 
in  order,  opening  its  flowers,  revealing  its  gifts,  and 
adorning  it  with  the  tapestry  of  graces.  The  bride-soul 
longs  for  this  with  all  its  might,  and  therefore  bids  the 
north  wind  not  to  blow,  and  invokes  the  south  wind 
to  blow  through  the  garden,  because  she  gains  much 
here  at  once. 

9.  The  bride  now  gains  the  fruition  of  all  her  virtues 
in  the'r  sweetest  exercise.  She  gains  the  fruition  of 
her  Beloved  in  them,  because  it  is  through  them  that  He 
converses  with  her  in  most  intimate  love,  and  grants  her 
favours  greater  than  any  of  the  past.  She  gains,  too, 
that  her  Beloved  delights  more  in  her  because  of  the 
actual  exercise  of  virtue,  which  is  what  pleases  her  most, 
namely,  that  her  Beloved  should  be  pleased  with  her. 
She  gains  also  the  permanent  continuance  of  the  sweet 
fragrance  which  remains  in  the  soul  while  the  Bridegroom 

*  Exod.  xxxiv.   30.  t  St.  Luke  xxii.  8. 


142  A   SPIKITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVII.] 

is  present,  and  the  bride  entertains  Him  with  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  virtues,  as  it  is  written  :  '  While  the  King 
was  at  His  repose,'  that  is,  in  the  soul,  '  my  spikenard 
sent  forth  its  odour.'*  The  spikenard  is  the  soul,  which 
from  the  flowers  of  its  virtues  sends  forth  sweet  odours 
to  the  Beloved,  Who  dwells  within  it  in  the  union  of  love. 

10.  It  is  therefore  very  much  to  be  desired  that  every 
soul  should  pray  the  Holy  Ghost  to  blow  through  its 
garden,  that  the  divine  odours  of  God  may  flow.  And 
as  this  is  so  necessary,  so  blissful  and  profitable  to  the 
soul,  the  bride  des'res  it,  and  prays  for  it,  in  the  words 
of  the  Canticle,  saying,  'Arise,  north  wind,  and  come, 
south  wind  ;  blow  through  my  garden,  and  let  the  aro- 
matical  spices  thereof  flow.'f  The  soul  prays  for  this, 
not  because  of  the  delight  and  bliss  consequent  upon 
it,  but  because  of  the  delight  it  ministers  to  the  Beloved, 
and  because  it  prepares  the  way  and  announces  the 
presence  of  the  Son  of  God,  Who  cometh  to  rejoice  in 
it.     Hence  the  soul  adds  : 

'  And  my  Beloved  shall  feed  among  the  flowers,' 

11.  The  delight  which  the  Son  of  God  finds  now  in 
the  soul  is  described  as  pasture.  This  word  expresses 
most  forcibly  the  truth,  because  pasture  not  only 
gladdeneth,  but  also  sustaineth.     Thus  the  Son  of  God 

*  Cant.  i.   II.  f  Cant,  iv,   i6. 


[STAN.  XVII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM        I43 

delights  in  the  soul,  in  the  delights  thereof,  and  is  sus- 
tained in  them — that  is,  He  abides  within  it  as  in  a  place 
which  pleases  Him  exceedingly,  because  the  place  itself 
really  delights  in  Him.  This,  I  believe,  is  the  meaning 
of  those  words  recorded  in  the  proverbs  of  Solomon  : 
'  My  delights  were  to  be  with  the  children  of  men  ;  '* 
that  is,  when  they  delight  to  be  with  Me,  Who  am  the 
Son  of  God. 

12.  Observe,  here,  that  it  is  not  said  that  the  Beloved 
shall  feed  on  the  flowers,  but  that  He  shall  feed  among 
the  flowers.  For,  as  the  communications  of  the  Beloved 
are  in  the  soul  itself,  through  the  adornment  of  the  virtues, 
it  follows  that  what  He  feeds  on  is  the  soul  which  He 
transformed  into  Himself,  now  that  it  is  prepared  and 
adorned  with  these  flowers  of  virtues,  graces,  and  per- 
fections, which  are  the  things  whereby,  and  among  which. 
He  feeds.  These,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  are 
sending  forth  in  the  soul  the  odours  of  sweetness  to  the 
Son  of  God,  that  He  may  feed  there  the  more  in  the 
love  thereof  ;  for  this  is  the  love  of  the  Bridegroom,  to 
be  united  to  the  soul  amid  the  fragrance  of  the 
flowers, 

13.  The  bride  in  the  Canticle  has  observed  this,  for 
she  had  experience  of  it,  saying  :  '  My  Beloved  is  gone 
down  into  His  garden,  to  the  bed  of  aromatical  spices, 

*  Prov.  viii.  31. 


144  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVII.] 

to  feed  in  the  gardens,  and  to  gather  hUes.  I  to  my 
Beloved,  and  my  Beloved  to  me,  Who  feedeth  among  the 
lilies.'*  That  is,  '  Who  feedeth  and  delight eth  in  my  soul, 
which  is  His  garden,  among  the  lilies  of  my  virtues, 
perfections,  and  graces.' 


NOTE 

In  the  state  of  spiritual  espousals  the  soul  contemplating 
its  great  riches  and  excellence,  but  unable  to  enter 
into  the  possession  and  fruition  of  them  as  it  desires, 
because  it  is  still  in  the  flesh,  often  suffers  exceedingly, 
and  then  more  particularly  when  its  knowledge  of  them 
becomes  more  profound.  It  then  sees  itself  in  the  body, 
like  a  prince  in  prison,  subject  to  all  misery,  whose 
authority  is  disregarded,  whose  territories  and  wealth 
are  confiscated,  and  who  of  his  former  substance  receives 
but  a  miserable  dole.  How  greatly  he  suffers  any  one 
may  see,  especia'ly  when  his  household  is  no  longer 
obedient,  and  his  slaves  and  servants,  forgetting  all 
respect,  plunder  him  of  the  scanty  provisions  of  his 
table.  Thus  is  it  with  the  soul  in  the  body,  for  when 
God  mercifully  admits  it  to  a  foretaste  of  the  good 
things  which  He  has  prepared  for  it,  the  wicked  servants 
of  desire  in  the  sensual  part,  now  a  slave  of  disorderly 
*  Cant.  vi.  i,  2. 


[STAN.  XVII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM       I45 

motions,  now  other  rebellious  movements,  rise  up  against 
it  in  order  to  rob  it  of  its  good. 

2.  The  soul  feels  itself  as  if  it  were  in  the  land  of 
enem:es,  tyrannised  over  by  the  stranger,  like  the  dead 
among  the  dead.  Its  feelings  are  those  which  the 
prophet  Baruch  gave  vent  to  when  he  described  the 
misery  of  Jacob's  captivity  :  '  How  happeneth  it,  O 
Israel,  that  thou  art  in  thy  enemies'  land  ?  thou  art 
grovNTi  old  in  a  strange  country,  thou  art  defiled  with 
the  dead  :  thou  art  counted  with  them  that  go  doNvn  into 
hell.'*  This  misery  of  the  soul,  in  the  captivity  of  the 
body,  is  thus  spoken  of  by  Jeremias,saying  :  '  Is  Israel 
a  bondman  or  a  home-born  slave  ?  Why  then  is  he 
become  a  prey  ?  The  lions  have  roared  upon  him, 
and  have  made  a  noise. 'f  The  lions  are  the  desires 
and  the  rebellious  motions  of  the  tyrant  king  of  sensuality. 
In  order  to  express  the  trouble  which  this  tyrant  occasions, 
and  the  desire  of  the  soul  to  see  this  kingdom  of  sensuality 
with  all  its  hosts  destroyed,  or  wholly  subject  to  the 
spirit,  the  soul  lifting  up  its  eyes  to  the  Bridegroom,  as 
to  one  who  can  effect  it,  speaks  against  those  rebellious 
motions  in  the  words  of  the  next  stanza. 

*  Bar.   iii.    10,   11.  f   Jer,  ii.   14,   15. 


10 


146  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVIII.] 

STANZA    XVIII 

0  nymphs  of  Judea  ! 

While  amid  the  flowers  and  the  rose-trees 

The  amber  sends  forth  its  perfume, 

Tarry  in  the  suburbs, 

And  touch  not  our  thresholds. 

It  is  the  bride  that  speaks  ;    for  seeing  herself,  as  to 
the  higher  part  of  the  soul,  adorned  with  the  rich  endow- 
ments  of   her   Beloved,   and   seeing   Him   delighting   in 
her,  she  desires  to  preserve  herself  in  security,  and  in 
the    continued    fruition    of    them.       Seeing    also    that 
hindrances    will    arise,    as    in   fact   they   do,    from   the 
sensual  part   of  the  soul,   which  will   disturb  so  great 
a  good,   she   bids   the   operations   and   motions   of  the 
soul's  lower  nature  to  cease,  in  the  senses  and  faculties 
of  it,  and  sensuality  not  to  overstep  its  boundaries  to 
trouble   and   disquiet   the   higher   and  spiritual  portion 
of  the  soul  :   not  to  hinder  even  for  a  moment  the  sweet- 
ness she  enjoys.     The  motions  of  the  lower  part,  and 
their  powers,  if  they  show  themselves  during  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  spirit,  are  so  much  more  troublesome  and 
disturbing,  the  more  active  they  are, 

'  O  nymphs  of  Judea.' 

2.     The  lower,  that   is   the  sensual  part  of  the  soul, 
i5  called  Judea.     It  is  called  Judea  because  it  is  weak, 


[STAN.  XVIII.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM      T47 

and  carnal,  and  blind,  like  the  Jewish  people.  All 
the  imaginations,  fancies,  motions,  and  inclinations 
of  the  lower  part  of  the  soul  are  called  nymphs  ;  for 
as  nymphs  with  their  beauty  and  attractions  entice 
men  to  love  them,  so  the  operations  and  motions  of 
sensuality  softly  and  earnestly  strive  to  entice  the  will 
from  the  rational  part,  in  order  to  withdraw  it  from 
that  which  is  interior,  and  to  fix  it  on  that  which  is 
exterior,  to  which  they  are  prone  themselves.  They 
also  strive  to  influence  the  understanding  to  join  with 
them  in  their  low  views,  and  to  bring  down  reason  to 
the  level  of  sense  by  the  attractions  of  the  latter.  The 
soul,  therefore,  says  in  effect  :  '  O  sensual  operations 
and  motions.' 

'  While  amid  the  flowers  and  the  rose-trees.* 

3.  The  flowers,  as  I  have  said,  are  the  virtues  of  the 
soul,  and  the  rose-trees  are  its  powers,  memory,  under- 
standing, and  will,  which  produce  and  nurture  the 
flowers  of  divine  conceptions,  acts  of  love  and  the  virtues, 
while  the  amber  sends  forth  its  perfume  in  the  virtues 
and  powers  of  the  soul. 

'  The  amber  sends  forth  its  perfume.' 

4.  The  amber  is  the  divine  spirit  of  the  Bridegroom 
Who  dwells  in  the  soul.     To  send  forth  the  perfume 


148  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVIII.] 

among  the  flowers  and  the  rose-trees,  is  to  diffuse  and 
communicate  Himself  most  sweetly  in  the  powers  and 
virtues  of  the  soul,  thereby  filHng  it  with  the  perfume 
of  divine  sweetness.  Meanwhile,  then,  when  the  Divine 
Spirit  is  filling  my  soul  with  spiritual  sweetness, 

'  Tarry  in  the  suburbs.' 

5.  In  the  suburbs  of  Judea,  which  is  the  inferior  or 
sensual  part  of  the  soul.  The  suburbs  are  the  interior 
senses,  namely,  memory,  fancy,  and  imagination,  where 
forms  and  images  of  things  collect,  by  the  help  of  which 
sensuality  stirs  up  concupiscence  and  desires.  These 
forms  are  the  nymphs,  and  while  they  are  quiet  and 
tranquil  the  desires  are  also  asleep.  They  enter  into 
the  suburbs  of  the  interior  senses  by  the  gates  of  the 
outward  senses,  of  sight,  hearing,  smell,  etc.  We  can 
thus  give  the  name  of  suburbs  to  all  the  powers  and 
interior  or  exterior  senses  of  the  sensual  part  of  the 
soul,  because  they  are  outside  the  walls  of  the  city. 

6.  That  part  of  the  soul  which  may  be  called  the 
city  is  that  which  is  most  interior,  the  rational  part, 
which  is  capable  of  converse  with  God,  the  operations 
of  which  are  contrary  to  those  of  sensuality.  But  there 
is  a  natural  intercourse  between  those  who  dwell  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  sensual  part — that  is,  the  nymphs — 
and  those  who  dwell  in  the  higher  part,  which  is  the 


[STAN,  XVIII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      I49 

city  itself ;  and,  therefore,  what  takes  place  in  the 
lower  part  is  ordinarily  felt  in  the  higher,  and  conse- 
quently compels  attention  to  itself  and  disturbs  the 
spiritual  operation  which  is  conversant  with  God.  Hence 
the  soul  bids  the  nymphs  tarry  in  the  suburbs — that  is, 
to  remain  at  rest  in  the  exterior  and  interior  senses 
of  the  sensual  part, 

'  And  touch  not  our  thresholds.' 

7.  Let  not  even  your  first  movements  touch  the 
higher  part,  for  the  first  movements  of  the  soul  are 
the  entrance  and  thresholds  of  it.  When  the  first  move- 
ments have  passed  into  the  reason,  they  have  crossed 
the  threshold,  but  when  they  remain  as  first  move- 
ments only  they  are  then  said  merely  to  touch  the 
threshold,  or  to  cry  at  the  gate,  which  is  the  case  when 
reason  and  sense  contend  over  an  unreasonable  act. 
The  soul  here  not  only  bids  these  not  to  touch  it,  but 
also  charges  all  considerations  whatever  which  do  not 
minister  to  its  repose  and  the  good  it  enjoys  to  keep 
far  away. 


NOTE 

The  soul  in  this  state  is  become  so  great  an  enemy  of 
the  lower  part,  and  its  operations,  that  it  would  have 


150  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XVIII.] 

God  communicate  nothing  to  it  when  He  communicates 
with  the  higher.  If  He  will  communicate  with  the 
lower,  it  must  be  in  a  slight  degree,  or  the  soul,  because 
of  its  natural  weakness,  will  be  unable  to  endure  it 
without  fainting,  and  consequently  the  spirit  cannot 
rejoice  in  peace,  because  it  is  then  troubled.  '  For,' 
as  the  wise  man  says,  '  the  body  that  is  corrupted 
burdeneth  the  soul.'  *  And  as  the  soul  longs  for  the 
highest  and  noblest  converse  with  God,  which  is  im- 
possible in  the  company  of  the  sensual  part,  it  begs 
of  God  to  deal  with  it  without  the  intervention  of  the 
senses.  That  sublime  vision  of  St.  Paul  in  the  third 
heaven,  wherein,  he  says,  he  saw  God,  but  yet  knew 
not  whether  he  was  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body, 
must  have  been,  be  it  what  it  may,  independent  of 
the  body  :  for  if  the  body  had  any  share  in  it,  he  must 
have  known  it,  and  the  vision  could  not  have  been 
what  it  was,  seeing  that  he  '  heard  secret  words  which 
it  is  not  lawful  for  a  man  to  speak.'  f  The  soul,  there- 
fore, knowing  well  that  graces  so  great  cannot  be  received 
in  a  vessel  so  mean,  and  longing  to  receive  them  out 
of  the  body,  or  at  least  without  it,  addresses  the  Bride- 
groom in  the  words  that  follow  • 

*  Wisd.  ix.   15.  f  2  Cor.  xii.  2-^. 


[STAN.  XIX.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM         I51 

STANZA    XIX 

Hide  Thyself,  0  my  Beloved  ! 

Turn  Thy  face  to  the  mountains. 

Do  not  speak. 

But  regard  the  companions 

Of  her  who  is  travelling  amidst  strange  islands. 

Here  the  bride  presents  four  petitions  to  the  Bride- 
groom. She  prays  that  He  would  be  pleased  to 
converse  with  her  most  interiorly  in  the  secret  chamber 
of  the  soul.  The  second,  that  He  would  invest  and 
inform  her  faculties  with  the  glory  and  excellence  of 
His  Divinity.  The  third,  that  He  would  converse 
with  her  so  profoundly  as  to  surpass  all  knowledge 
and  expression,  and  in  such  a  way  that  the  exterior 
and  sensual  part  may  not  perceive  it.  The  fourth, 
that  He  would  love  the  many  virtues  and  graces  which 
He  has  implanted  in  her,  adorned  with  which  she  is 
ascending  upwards  to  God  in  the  highest  knowledge 
of  the  Divinity,  and  in  transports  of  love  most  strange 
and  singular,  surpassing  those  of  ordinary  experience. 

'  Hide  Thyself,  O  my  Beloved  !  ' 

2.  '  O  my  Bridegroom,  most  beloved,  hide  Thyself 
in  the  inmost  depths  of  my  soul,  communicating  Thyself 
to  it  in  secret,  and  manifesting  Thy  hidden  wonders 
which  no  mortal  eyes  may  see. 

'Turn  Thy  face  to  the  mountains.' 


152  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XIX.] 

3.  The  face  of  God  is  His  Divinity.  The  mountains 
are  the  powers  of  the  soul,  memory,  understanding,  and 
will.  Thus  the  meaning  of  these  words  is  :  Enlighten 
my  understanding  with  Thy  Divinity,  and  give  it  the 
divine  intelligence,  fill  my  will  with  divine  love,  and 
my  memory  with  divine  possession  of  glory.  The 
bride  here  prays  for  all  that  may  be  prayed  for  ;  for 
she  is  not  content  with  that  knowledge  of  God  once 
granted  to  Moses  * — the  knowledge  of  Him  by  His 
works — for  she  prays  to  see  the  face  of  God,  which 
is  the  essential  communication  of  His  Divinity  to  the 
soul,  without  any  intervening  medium,  by  a  certain 
knowledge  thereof  in  the  Divinity.  This  is  something 
beyond  sense,  and  divested  of  accidents,  inasmuch  as 
it  is  the  contact  of  pure  substances — that  is,  of  the  soul 
and  the  Divinity. 

'  Do  not  speak.' 

4.  That  is,  do  not  speak  as  before,  when  Thy  con- 
verse with  me  was  known  to  the  outward  senses,  for 
it  was  once  such  as  to  be  comprehended  by  them  ;  it 
was  not  so  profound  but  they  could  fathom  it.  Now 
let  Thy  converse  with  me  be  so  deep  and  so  substantial, 
and  so  interior,  as  to  be  above  the  reach  of  the  senses  ; 
for  the   substance   of  the   spirit   is   incommunicable   to 

*  Exod.  xxxiii.  23. 


[STAN.  XIX.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  I53 

sense,  and  the  communication  made  through  the  senses, 
especially  in  this  life,  cannot  be  purely  spiritual,  because 
the  senses  are  not  capable  of  it.  The  soul,  therefore, 
longing  for  that  substantial  and  essential  communication 
of  God,  of  which  sense  cannot  be  cognizant,  prays  the 
Bridegroom  not  to  speak  :  that  is  to  say,  let  the  deep 
secret  of  the  spiritual  union  be  such  as  to  escape  the 
notice  of  the  senses,  like  the  secret  which  St.  Paul  heard, 
and  which  it  is  not  lawful  for  a  man  to  speak.* 

'  But  regard  the  companions.' 

5.  The  regard  of  God  is  love  and  grace.  The  com- 
panions here  are  the  many  virtues  of  the  soul,  its  gifts, 
perfections,  and  other  spiritual  graces  with  which  God 
has  endowed  it  ;  p'edges,  tokens,  and  presents  of  its 
betrothal.  Thus  the  meaning  of  the  words  seems  to 
be  this :  '  Turn  Thou  Thy  face  to  the  interior  of  my 
soul,  O  my  Beloved ;  be  enamoured  of  the  treasures 
which  Thou  hast  laid  up  there,  so  that,  enamoured 
of  them,  Thou  mayest  hide  Thyself  among  them  and 
there  dwell  ;  for  in  truth,  though  they  are  Thine,  they 
are  mine  also,  because  Thou  hast  given  them.' 

'  Of  her  who  travels  amidst  strange  islands.' 

6.  That  is,  '  Of  my  soul  tending  towards  Thee  through 
strange  knowledge  of  Thee,  by  strange  ways ' — strange 

*  2  Cor.  xii.  4. 


154  A   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XIX.] 

to  sense  and  to  the  ordinary  perceptions  of  nature. 
It  is  as  if  the  bride  said,  by  way  of  constraining  Him 
to  yield :  '  Seeing  that  my  soul  is  tending  towards  Thee 
through  knowledge  which  is  spiritual,  strange,  unknown 
to  sense,  do  Thou  also  communicate  Thyself  to  it  so 
interiorly  and  so  profoundly  that  the  senses  may  not 
observe  it.' 

NOTE 

In  order  to  the  attainment  of  a  state  of  perfection  so 
high  as  this  of  the  spiritual  marriage,  the  soul  that 
aims  at  it  must  not  only  be  purified  and  cleansed  from 
all  the  imperfections,  rebellions,  and  imperfect  habits 
of  the  inferior  part,  which  is  now — the  old  man  being 
put  away — subject  and  obedient  to  the  higher,  but 
it  must  also  have  great  courage  and  most  exalted  love 
for  so  strong  and  close  an  embrace  of  God.  For  in 
this  state  the  soul  not  only  attains  to  exceeding  pureness 
and  beauty,  but  also  acquires  a  terrible  strength  by 
leason  of  that  strict  and  close  bond  which  in  this  union 
binds  it  to  God.  The  soul,  therefore,  in  order  to  reach 
this  state  must  have  purity,  strength,  and  adequate 
love.  The  Holy  Ghost,  the  author  of  this  spiritual 
union,  desirous  that  the  soul  should  attain  thus  far 
in  order  to  merit  it,  addresses  Himself  to  the  Father 
and  the  Son,  saying  :    '  Our  sister  is  little,   and  hath 


[STAN.  XIX.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM         I55 

no  breasts.  What  shall  we  do  to  our  sister  in  the  day 
when  she  is  to  be  spoken  to  ?  If  she  be  a  wall,  let  us 
build  upon  it  bulwarks  of  silver  ;  if  she  be  a  door,  let 
us  join  it  together  with  boards  of  cedar.'  * 

2.  The  '  bulwarks  of  silver  '  are  the  strong  heroic 
virtues  comprised  in  the  faith,  which  is  signified  by 
silver,  and  these  heroic  virtues  are  those  of  the  spiritual 
marriage,  which  are  built  upon  the  soul,  signified  by 
the  wall,  relying  on  the  strength  of  which,  the  peaceful 
Bridegroom  reposes  undisturbed  by  any  infirmities. 
The  '  boards  of  cedar  '  are  the  affections  and  accessories 
of  this  deep  love  which  is  signified  by  the  cedar-tree, 
and  this  is  the  love  of  the  spiritual  marriage.  In  order 
'  to  join  it  together,'  that  is,  to  adorn  the  bride,  it  is 
necessary  she  should  be  the  door  for  the  Bridegroom 
to  enter  through,  keeping  the  door  of  the  will  open  in 
a  perfect  and  true  consent  of  love,  which  is  the  consent 
of  the  betrothal  given  previous  to  the  spiritual  marriage. 
The  breasts  of  the  bride  are  also  this  perfect  love  which 
she  must  have  in  order  to  appear  in  the  presence  of 
Christ  her  Bridegroom  for  the  perfection  of  such  a  state. 
3.  It  is  written  in  the  Canticle  that  the  bride  in 
her  longing  for  this  presence  immediately  replied, 
saying  :  '  I  am  a  wall  :  and  my  breasts  are  as  a  tower  ' — 
that  is,  '  My  soul  is  strong,  and  my  love  most  deep  ' — 

*  Cant.  viii.  8. 


156  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

that  He  may  not  fail  her  on  that  ground.  The  bride, 
too,  had  expressed  as  much  in  the  preceding  stanzas, 
out  of  the  fulness  of  her  longing  for  the  perfect  union  and 
transformation,  and  particularly  in  the  last,  wherein  she 
set  before  the  Bridegroom  all  the  virtues,  graces,  and  good 
dispositions  with  which  she  was  adorned  by  Him,  and  that 
with  the  object  of  making  Him  the  prisoner  of  her  love. 
4.  Now  the  Bridegroom,  to  bring  this  matter  to  a 
close,  replies  in  the  two  stanzas  that  follow,  which 
describe  Him  as  perfectly  purifying  the  soul,  strengthening 
and  disposing  it,  both  as  to  its  sensual  and  spiritual  part, 
for  this  state,  and  charging  all  resistance  and  rebellion, 
both  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  devil,  to  cease,  saying  : 

STANZAS    XX,    XXI 

THE    BRIDEGROOM 

Light-winged  birds, 

Lions,  fawns,  bounding  does. 

Mountains,  valleys,  strands. 

Waters,  winds,  heat. 

And  the  terrors  that  keep  watch  by  night  ; 

By  the  soft  lyres 

And  siren  strains,  I  adjure  you,  ■ 

Let  your  fury  cease, 

And  touch  not  the  wall. 

That  the  bride  may  sleep  in  greater  security. 

Here  the  Son  of  God,  the  Bridegroom,  leads  the  bride 
into  the  enjoyment  of  peace  and  tranquillity  in  the  con- 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]     OF  THE  SOUL  AND   ITS  BRIDEGROOM     157 

formity  of  her  lower  to  her  higher  nature,  purging  awa}^ 
all  her  imperfections,  subjecting  the  natural  powers  of 
the  soul  to  reason,  and  mortifying  all  her  desires,  as  it 
is  expressed  in  these  two  stanzas,  the  meaning  of  which 
is  as  follows.  In  the  first  place  the  Bridegroom  adjures 
and  commands  all  vain  distractions  of  the  fancy  and 
imagination  from  henceforth  to  cease,  and  controls  the 
irascible  and  concupiscible  faculties  which  were  hitherto 
the  sources  of  so  much  affliction.  He  brings,  so  far  as 
it  is  possible  in  this  life,  the  three  powers  of  memory, 
understanding,  and  will  to  the  perfection  of  their 
objects,  and  then  adjures  and  commands  the  four 
passions  of  the  soul,  joy,  hope,  grief,  and  fear,  to  be 
still,  and  bids  them  from  henceforth  be  moderate  and 
calm. 

2.  All  these  passions  and  faculties  are  comprehended 
under  the  expressions  employed  in  the  first  stanza,  the 
operations  of  which,  full  of  trouble,  the  Bridegroom 
subdues  by  that  great  sweetness,  joy,  and  courage  which 
the  bride  enjoys  in  the  spiritual  siurrender  of  Himself  to 
her  which  God  makes  at  this  time  ;  under  the  influence 
of  which,  because  God  transforms  the  soul  effectually  in 
Himself,  all  the  faculties,  desires,  and  movements  of 
the  soul  lose  their  natural  imperfection  and  become 
divine. 

'  Light-winged  birds.' 


158  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

3.  These  are  the  distractions  of  the  imagination, 
light  and  rapid  in  their  flight  from  one  subject  to  another. 
When  the  will  is  tranquilly  enjoying  the  sweet  con- 
verse of  the  Beloved,  these  distractions  produce  weariness, 
and  in  their  swift  flight  quench  its  joy.  The  Bridegroom 
adjures  them  by  the  soft  lyres.  That  is,  now  that  the 
sweetness  of  the  soul  is  so  abundant  and  so  continuous 
that  they  cannot  interfere  with  it,  as  they  did  before 
when  it  had  not  reached  this  state.  He  adjures  them, 
and  bids  them  cease  from  their  disquieting  violence. 
The  same  explanation  is  to  be  given  of  the  rest  of  the 
stanza. 

'  Lions,  fawns,  bounding  does.' 

4.  By  the  lions  is  meant  the  raging  violence  of  the 
irascible  faculty,  which  in  its  acts  is  bold  and  daring  as 
a  lion.  The  '  fawois  and  bounding  does  '  are  the  concu- 
piscible  faculty — that  is,  the  power  of  desire,  the  qualities 
of  which  are  two,  timidity  and  rashness.  Timidity 
betrays  itself  when  things  do  not  turn  out  according 
to  our  wishes,  for  then  the  mind  retires  \^dthin  itself 
discouraged,  and  in  this  respect  the  soul  resembles  the 
fawns.  For  as  fawns  have  the  concupiscible  faculty 
stronger  than  many  other  animals,  so  are  they  more 
retiring  and  more  timid.  Rashness  betrays  itself  when 
we  have  our  own  way,  for  the  mind  is  then  neither 
retiring  nor  timid,  but  desires  boldly,  and  gratifies  all  its 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]     OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     I59 

inclinations.  This  quality  of  rashness  is  compared  to 
the  does,  who  so  eagerly  seek  what  they  desire  that 
they  not  only  run,  but  even  leap  after  it ;  hence  they  are 
described  as  bounding  does. 

5.  Thus  the  Bridegroom,  in  adjuring  the  lions, 
restrains  the  violence  and  controls  the  fury  of  rage  ;  in 
adjuring  the  fawns.  He  strengthens  the  concupisciblo 
faculty  against  timidity  and  irresolution  ;  and  in  ad- 
juring the  does  He  satisfies  and  subdues  the  desires 
which  were  restless  before,  leaping,  like  deer,  from  one 
object  to  another,  to  satisfy  that  concupiscence  which 
is  now  satisfied  by  the  soft  lyres,  the  sweetness  of  which 
it  enjoys,  and  by  the  siren  strains,  in  the  dehght  of 
which  it  revels. 

6.  But  the  Bridegroom  does  not  adjure  anger  and 
concupiscence  themselves,  because  these  passions  never 
cease  from  the  soul — but  their  vexatious  and  disorderly 
acts,  signified  by  the  '  lions,  fawns,  and  bounding  does,' 
for  it  is  necessary  that  these  disorderly  acts  should  cease 
in  this  state. 

'  Mountains,  valleys,  strands.' 

7.  These  are  the  vicious  and  disorderly  actions  of 
the  three  faculties  of  the  soul — memory,  understanding, 
and  will.  These  actions  are  disorderly  and  vicious  when 
they  are  in  extremes,  or,  if  not  in  extreme,  tending  to 


l6o  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

one  extreme  or  other.  Thus  the  mountains  signify  those 
actions  which  are  vicious  in  excess,  mountains  being 
high  ;  the  valleys,  being  low,  signify  those  which  are 
vicious  in  the  extreme  of  defect.  Strands,  which  are 
neither  high  nor  low,  but,  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  per- 
fectly level,  tend  to  one  extreme  or  other,  signify  those 
acts  of  the  three  powers  of  the  soul  which  depart  slightly 
in  either  direction  from  the  true  mean  and  equality  of 
justice.  These  actions,  though  not  disorderly  in  the 
extreme,  as  they  would  be  if  they  amounted  to  mortal 
sin,  are  nevertheless  disorderly  in  part,  tending  towards 
venial  sin  or  imperfection,  however  slight  that  tendency 
may  be,  in  the  understanding,  memory,  and  will.  He 
adjures  also  all  these  actions  which  depart  from  the 
true  mean,  and  bids  them  cease  before  the  soft  lyres  and 
the  siren  strains,  which  so  effectually  charm  the  powers 
of  the  soul  as  to  occupy  them  completely  in  their  true 
and  proper  functions,  so  that  they  avoid  not  only  all 
extremes,  but  also  the  slightest  tendency  to  them. 

'  Waters,  winds,  heat,  and  the  terrors 
that  keep  watch  by  night,' 

8.  These  are  the  affections  of  the  four  passions, 
grief,  hope,  joy,  and  fear.  The  waters  are  the  affections 
of  grief  which  aiflict  the  soul,  for  they  rush  into  it  like 
water.     '  Save  me,  O  God,'  saith  the  Psalmist,  '  for  the 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]      OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     l6l 

waters  are  come  in  even  unto  my  soul.'  *  The  winds 
are  the  affections  of  hope,  for  they  rush  forth  hke  wind, 
desiring  that  which  is  not  present  but  lioped  for,  as  the 
Psabnist  saith  :  '  I  opened  my  mouth  and  drew  breath  : 
because  I  longed  for  Thy  commandments.'  f  That  is, 
'  I  opened  the  mouth  of  my  hope,  and  drew  in  the  wind  of 
desire,  because  I  hoped  and  longed  for  Thy  command- 
ments.' Heat  is  the  affections  of  joy  which,  like  fire, 
inflame  the  heart,  as  it  is  written  :  '  My  heart  waxed 
hot  within  me  ;  and  in  my  meditation  a  fire  shall  burn  ' ;  J 
that  is,  'while  I  meditate  I  shall  have  joy.' 

g.  The  '  terrors  that  keep  watch  by  night  '  are  the 
affections  of  fear,  which  in  spiritual  persons  who  have 
not  attained  to  the  state  of  spiritual  marriage  are  usually 
exceedingly  strong.  They  come  sometimes  from  God 
when  He  is  going  to  bestow  certain  great  graces  upon 
soul?,  as  I  said  before  ;  §  He  is  wont  then  to  fill  the  mind 
with  dread,  to  make  the  flesh  tremble  and  the  senses 
numb,  because  nature  is  not  made  strong  and  perfect  and 
prepared  for  these  graces.  They  come  also  at  times 
from  the  evil  spirit,  who,  out  of  envy  and  malignity, 
when  he  sees  a  soul  sweetly  recollected  in  God,  labours 
to  disturb  its  tranquillity  by  exciting  horror  and  dread, 
in  order  to  destroy  so  great  a  blessing,  and  sometimes 

*  Ps.  Ixviii.   2.  f   Ps.  cxviii.  131. 

I  Ps.  xxxviii.  4.  §  Stanza  xiii.  §  4,  xiv.  §  26. 

II  ; 


l62  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

utters  his  threats,  as  it  were  in  the  interior  of  the  soul. 
But  when  he  finds  that  he  cannot  penetrate  within  the 
soul,  because  it  is  so  recollected,  and  so  united  with  God, 
he  strives  at  least  in  the  province  of  sense  to  produce 
exterior  distractions  and  inconstancy,  sensible  pains  and 
horrors,  if  perchance  he  may  in  this  way  disturb  the  soul 
in  the  bridal  chamber. 

10.  These  are  called  terrors  of  the  night,  because  they 
are  the  work  of  evil  spirits,  and  because  Satan  labours, 
by  the  help  thereof,  to  involve  the  soul  in  darkness, 
and  to  obscure  the  divine  light  wherein  it  rejoiceth. 
These  terrors  are  called  watchers,  because  they  awaken 
the  soul  and  rouse  it  from  its  sweet  interior  slumber, 
and  also  because  Satan,  their  author,  is  ever  on  the  watch 
to  produce  them.  These  terrors  strike  the  soul  of 
persons  who  are  already  spiritual,  passively,  and  come 
either  from  God  or  the  evil  spirit.  I  do  not  refer  to 
temporal  or  natural  terrors,  because  spiritual  men  are 
not  subject  to  these,  as  they  are  to  those  of  which  I  am 
speaking. 

11.  The  Beloved  adjures  the  affections  of  these  four 
passions,  compels  them  to  cease  and  to  be  at  rest,  because 
He  supplies  the  bride  now  with  force,  and  courage,  and 
satisfaction,  by  the  soft  lyres  of  His  sweetness  and  the 
siren  strains  of  His  delight,  so  that  not  only  they  shall 
not  domineer  over  the  soul,  but  shall  not  occasion  it  any 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]     OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     163 

distaste  whatever.  Such  is  the  grandeur  and  stabihty  of 
the  soul  in  this  state,  that,  although  formerly  the  waters 
of  grief  overwhelmed  it,  because  of  its  own  or  other  men's 
sins — which  is  what  spiritual  persons  most  feel — the 
consideration  of  them  now  excites  neither  pain  nor 
annoyance  ;  even  the  sensible  feeling  of  compassion 
exists  not  now,  though  the  effects  of  it  continue  in  per- 
fection. The  weaknesses  of  its  virtues  are  no  longer  in 
the  soul,  for  they  are  now  constant,  strong,  and  perfect. 
As  the  angels  perfectly  appreciate  all  sorrowful  things 
without  the  sense  of  pain,  and  perform  acts  of  mercy 
without  the  sentiment  of  pity,  so  the  soul  in  this  trans- 
formation of  love.  God,  however,  dispenses  sometimes, 
on  certain  occasions,  with  the  soul  in  this  matter,  allow- 
ing it  to  feel  and  suffer,  that  it  may  become  more  fervent 
in  love,  and  grow  in  merit,  or  for  some  other  reasons,  as 
He  dispensed  with  His  Virgin  Mother,  St.  Paul,  and 
others.  This,  however,  is  not  the  ordinary  condition  of 
this  state. 

12.  Neither  do  the  desires  of  hope  afflict  the  soul  now, 
because,  satisfied  in  its  union  with  God,  so  far  as  it  is 
possible  in  this  life,  it  has  nothing  of  this  world  to  hope 
for,  and  nothing  spiritual  to  desire,  seeing  that  it  feels 
itself  to  be  full  of  the  riches  of  God,  though  it  may  grow 
in  charity,  and  thus,  whether  living  or  dying,  it  is  con- 
formed to  the  will  of  God,  saying  with  the  sense  and 


164  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

spirit,  '  Thy  will  be  done,'  free  from  the  violence  of 
inclination  and  desires  ;  and  accordingly  even  its  longing 
for  the  beatific  vision  is  without  pain. 

13.  The  affections  of  joy,  also,  which  were  wont  to 
move  the  soul  with  more  or  less  vehemence,  are  not 
sensibly  diminished ;  neither  does  their  abundance 
occasion  any  surprise.  The  joy  of  the  soul  is  now  so 
abundant  that  it  is  hke  the  sea,  which  is  not  diminished 
by  the  rivers  that  flow  out  of  it,  nor  increased  by  those 
that  empty  themselves  into  it  ;  for  the  soul  is  now  that 
fountain  of  which  our  Lord  said  that  it  is  '  springing  up 
into  life  everlasting.'* 

14.  I  have  said  that  the  soul  receives  nothing  new  or 
unusual  in  this  state  of  transformation  ;  it  seems  to  lose 
all  accidental  joy,  which  is  not  withheld  even  from  the 
glorified.  That  is,  accidental  joys  and  sweetness  are 
indeed  no  strangers  to  this  soul  ;  yea,  rather,  those  which 
it  ordinarily  has  cannot  be  numbered  ;  yet,  for  all  this, 
as  to  the  substantial  communication  of  the  spirit,  there 
is  no  increase  of  joy,  for  that  which  may  occur  anew  the 
soul  possesses  already,  and  thus  what  the  soul  has  already 
within  itself  is  greater  than  anything  that  comes  anew. 
Hence,  then,  whenever  any  subject  of  joy  and  gladness, 
whether  exterior  or  spiritually  interior,  presents  itself 
to  the  soul,  the  soul  betakes  itself  forthwith  to  rejoicing  in 

*  St.  John  iv.   14. 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]     OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     165 

the  riches  it  possesses  already  within  itself,  and  the  joy  it 
has  in  them  is  far  greater  than  any  which  these  new 
accessions  minister,  because,  in  a  certain  sense,  God  is 
become  its  possession.  Who,  though  He  dehghts  in  all 
things,  yet  in  nothing  so  much  as  in  Himself,  seeing  that 
He  has  all  good  eminently  in  Himself.  Thus  all  acces- 
sions of  joy  serve  to  remind  the  soul  that  its  real  joy  is 
in  its  interior  possessions,  rather  than  in  these  accidental 
causes,  because,  as  I  have  said,  the  former  are  greater 
than  the  latter. 

15.  It  is  very  natural  for  the  soul,  even  when  a 
particular  matter  gives  it  pleasure,  that,  possessing 
another  of  greater  worth  and  gladness,  it  should  remember 
it  at  once  and  take  its  pleasure  in  it.  The  accidental 
character  of  these  spiritual  accessions,  and  the  new 
impressions  they  make  on  the  soul,  may  be  said  to  be  as 
nothing  in  comparison  with  that  substantial  source  which 
it  has  within  itself  ;  for  the  soul  which  has  attained  to 
the  perfect  transformation,  and  is  full-gro^\Tl,  grows  no 
more  in  this  state  by  means  of  these  spiritual  accessions, 
as  those  souls  do  who  have  not  yet  advanced  so  far.  It 
is  a  marvellous  thing  that  the  soul,  while  it  receives  no 
accessions  of  delight,  should  still  seem  to  do  so  and  also 
to  have  been  in  possession  of  them.  The  reason  is  that 
it  is  always  tasting  them  anew,  because  they  are  ever 
renewed ;     and    thus    it    seems   to   be   continually  the 


l66  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

recipient  of  new  accessions,  while  it  has  no  need  of  them 
whatever. 

i6.  But  if  we  speak  of  that  hght  of  glory  which  in 
this,  the  soul's  embrace,  God  sometimes  produces  within 
it,  and  which  is  a  certain  spiritual  communion  wherein 
He  causes  it  to  behold  and  enjoy  at  the  same  time  the 
abyss  of  delight  and  riches  which  He  has  laid  up  ■s\dthin 
it,  there  is  no  language  to  express  any  degree  of  it.  As 
the  sun  when  it  shines  upon  the  sea  illumines  its  great 
depths,  and  reveals  the  pearls,  and  gold,  and  precious 
stones  therein,  so  the  divine  sun  of  the  Bridegroom, 
turning  towards  the  bride,  reveals  in  a  way  the  riches  of 
her  soul,  so  that  even  the  angels  behold  her  with  amaze- 
ment and  say  :  '  Who  is  she  that  cometh  forth  as  the 
morning  rising,  fair  as  the  moon,  bright  as  the  sun, 
terrible  as  the  army  of  a  camp  set  in  array.'  *  This 
illumination  adds  nothing  to  the  grandeur  of  the  soul, 
notwithstanding  its  greatness,  because  it  merely  reveals 
that  which  the  soul  already  possessed  in  order  that  it 
might  rejoice  in  it. 

17.  Finally,  the  terrors  that  keep  watch  by  night  do 
not  come  nigh  unto  her,  because  of  her  pureness,  courage, 
and  confident  trust  in  God ;  the  evil  spirits  cannot 
shroud  her  in  darkness,  nor  alarm  her  with  terrors,  nor 
disturb  her  with  their  violent   assaults.     Thus  nothing 

*  Cant.  vi.  9. 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]      OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     167 

can  approach  her,  nothing  can  molest  her,  for  she  has 
escaped  from  all  created  things  and  entered  in  to  God, 
to  the  fruition  of  perfect  peace,  sweetness,  and  delight, 
so  far  as  that  is  possible  in  this  life.  It  is  to  this  state 
that  the  words  of  Solomon  are  applicable  :  '  A  secure 
mind  is  as  it  were  a  continual  feast.'  *  As  in  a  feast 
we  have  the  savour  of  all  meat,  and  the  sweetness  of  all 
music,  so  in  this  feast,  which  the  bride  keeps  in  the 
bosom  of  her  Beloved,  the  soul  rejoices  in  all  delight,  and 
has  the  taste  of  all  sweetness.  All  that  I  have  said,  and 
all  that  may  be  said,  on  this  subject,  will  always  fall 
short  of  that  which  passeth  in  the  soul  which  has  attained 
to  this  blessed  state.  For  when  it  shall  have  attained  to 
the  peace  of  God,  '  which,'  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle, 
'  surpasseth  all  understanding,'  f  ^o  description  of  its 
state  is  possible. 

'  By  the  soft  lyres  and  the  siren  strains  I  adjure  you.' 
18.  The  soft  lyres  are  the  sweetness  which  the  Bride- 
groom communicates  to  the  soul  in  this  state,  and  by 
which  He  makes  all  its  troubles  to  cease.  As  the  muse 
of  lyres  fills  the  soul  with  sweetness  and  delight,  carries 
it  rapturously  out  of  itself,  so  that  it  forgets  all  its 
weariness  and  grief,  so  in  like  manner  this  sweetness 
so  absorbs  the  soul  that  nothing  painful  can  reach  it. 
The  Bridegroom  says,  in  substance  :  '  By  that  sweetness 

*  Prov,  XV.   15.  f  Phil.  iv.  7. 


l68  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XX,  XXI.] 

which  I  give  thee,  let  all  thy  bitterness  cease.'  The  siren 
strains  are  the  ordinary  joys  of  the  soul.  These  are 
called  siren  strains  because,  as  it  is  said,  the  music  of  the 
sirens  is  so  sweet  and  delicious  that  he  who  hears  it  is 
so  rapt  and  so  carried  out  of  himself  that  he  forgets 
everything.  In  the  same  way  the  soul  is  so  absorbed  in, 
and  refreshed  by,  the  delight  of  this  union  that  it  be- 
comes, as  it  were,  charmed  against  all  the  vexations 
and  troubles  that  may  assail  it  ;  it  is  to  these  the  next 
words  of  the  stanza  refer  : 

'  Let  your  fury  cease.' 

19.  This  is  the  troubles  and  anxieties  which  flow 
from  unruly  acts  and  affections.  As  anger  is  a  certain 
violence  which  disturbs  peace,  overleaping  its  bounds, 
so  also  all  these  affections  in  their  motions  transgress 
the  bounds  of  the  peace  and  tranquillity  of  the  soul,  dis- 
turbing it  whenever  they  touch  it.  Hence  the  Bride- 
groom says  : 

'  And  touch  not  the  wall.' 

20.  The  wall  is  the  territory  of  peace  and  the  fortress 
of  virtue  and  perfections,  which  are  the  defences  and 
protection  of  the  soul.  The  soul  is  the  garden  wherein 
the  Beloved  feeds  among  the  flowers,  defended  and 
guarded  for  Him  alone.     Hence  it  is  called  in  the  Canticle 


[STAN.  XX,  XXI.]      OF  THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     169 

'  a  garden  enclosed.'  *  The  Bridegroom  bids  all  dis- 
orderly emotions  not  to  touch  the  territory  and  wall  of 
His  garden. 

21.  '  That  the  bride  may  sleep  in  greater  security.' 
That  is,  that  she  is  delighting  herself  with  more  sweet- 
ness in  the  tranquillity  and  sweetness  she  has  in  the 
Beloved.  That  is  to  say,  that  now  no  door  is  shut 
against  the  soul,  and  that  it  is  in  its  power  to  abandon 
itself  whenever  it  wills  to  this  sweet  sleep  of  love,  accord- 
ing to  the  words  of  the  Bridegroom  in  the  Canticle,  '  I 
adjure  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes  and 
the  harts  of  the  fields,  that  you  raise  not  up  nor  make 
the  beloved  to  awake  till  herself  will.'  f 


NOTE 

The  Bridegroom  was  so  anxious  to  rescue  His  bride  from 
the  power  of  the  flesh  and  the  devil  and  to  set  her  free, 
that,  having  done  so.  He  rejoices  over  her  like  the  good 
shepherd  who,  having  found  the  sheep  that  was  lost, 
laid  it  upon  his  shoulders  rejoicing  ;  like  the  woman 
who,  having  found  the  money  she  had  lost,  after  lighting 
a  candle  and  sweeping  the  house,  called  '  together  her 
friends  and  neighbours,  saying.  Rejoice  with  me.'  J 
So  this  loving  Shepherd  and  Bridegroom  of  souls  shows  a 

*  Cant.  iv.   12.  f  Cant.   iii.  5.  J  St.  Luke  xv.  5,  8,  9. 


170  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.   XXII.] 

marvellous  j  oy  and  delight  when  He  beholds  a  soul  gained 
to  perfection  lying  on  His  shoulders,  and  by  His  hands 
held  fast  in  the  longed-for  embrace  and  union.  He  is 
not  alone  in  His  joy,  for  He  makes  the  angels  and  the 
souls  of  the  blessed  partakers  of  His  glory,  saying,  as 
in  the  Canticle,  '  Go  forth,  ye  daughters  of  Sion,  and  see 
king  Solomon  in  the  diadem  wherewith  his  mother 
crowned  him  in  the  day  of  his  betrothal,  and  in  the 
day  of  the  joy  of  his  heart.'  *  He  calls  the  soul  His 
crown.  His  bride,  and  the  joy  of  His  heart  :  He  carries 
it  in  His  arms,  and  as  a  bridegroom  leads  it  into  His 
bridal  chamber,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  following  stanza  : 


STANZA    XXn 

The  bride  has  entered 

The  pleasant  and  desirable  garden, 

A  nd  there  reposes  to  her  heart's  content  ; 

Her  neck  reclining 

On  the  sweet  arms  of  the  Beloved. 

The  bride  having  done  what  she  could  in  order  that 
the  foxes  may  be  caught,  the  north  wind  cease,  the 
nymphs,  hindrances  to  the  desired  joy  of  the  state  of 
spiritual  marriage,  forgo  their  troublesome  importimities, 
and  having    also  invoked  and  obtained  the  favourable 

*  Cant.  iii.   11. 


[STAN.  XXII.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM       I7I 

wind  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  the  right  disposition 
and  means  for  the  perfection  of  this  state,  it  remains  for 
me  now  to  speak  of  it  in  the  stanza  in  which  the  Bride- 
groom calls  the  soul  His  bride,  and  speaks  of  two  things  : 
(i)  He  says  that  the  soul,  having  gone  forth  victoriously, 
has  entered  the  delectable  state  of  spiritual  marriage, 
which  they  had  both  so  earnestly  desired.  (2)  He  enu- 
merates the  properties  of  that  state,  into  the  fruition  of 
which  the  soul  has  entered,  namely,  perfect  repose,  and 
the  resting  of  the  neck  on  the  arms  of  the  Beloved. 

'  The  bride  has  entered.' 

2.  For  the  better  understanding  of  the  arrangement 
of  these  stanzas,  and  of  the  way  by  which  the  soul 
advances  till  it  reaches  the  state  of  spiritual  marriage, 
which  is  the  very  highest,  and  of  which,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  I  am  now  about  to  treat,  we  must  keep  in  mind  that 
the  soul,  before  it  enters  it,  must  be  tried  in  tribulations, 
in  sharp  mortifications,  and  in  meditation  on  spiritual 
things.  This  is  the  subject  of  this  canticle  till  we  come 
to  the  fifth  stanza,  beginning  with  the  words,  '  A  thou- 
sand graces  diffusing.'  Then  the  soul  enters  on  the 
contemplative  life,  passing  through  those  ways  and 
straits  of  love  which  are  described  in  the  course  of  the 
canticle,  till  we  come  to  the  thirteenth,  beginning  with 
'  Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved  !  '     This  is  the  moment 


172  A   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.    XXII,] 

of  the  spiritual  betrothal ;  and  then  the  soul  advances 
by  the  unitive  way,  the  recipient  of  many  and  very  great 
communications,  jewels  and  gifts  from  the  Bridegroom 
as  to  one  betrothed,  and  grows  into  perfect  love,  as 
appears  from  the  stanzas  which  follow  that  beginning 
with  '  Turn  them  away,  O  my  Beloved  !  '  (the  moment  of 
betrothal),  to  the  present,  beginning  with  the  words  : 

'  The  bride  has  entered.' 

3.  The  spiritual  marriage  of  the  soul  and  the  Son  of 
God  now  remains  to  be  accomplished.  This  is,  beyond 
all  comparison,  a  far  higher  state  than  that  of  betrothal, 
because  it  is  a  complete  transformation  into  the  Beloved  ; 
whereby  they  surrender  each  to  the  other  the  entire 
possession  of  themselves  in  the  perfect  union  of  love, 
wherein  the  soul  becomes  divine,  and,  by  participation, 
God,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  in  this  life.  I  believe  that 
no  soul  ever  attains  to  this  state  ^^ithout  being  confirmed 
in  grace,  for  the  faithfulness  of  both  is  confirmed  ;  that 
of  God  being  confirmed  in  the  soul.  Hence  it  follows, 
that  this  is  the  very  highest  state  possible  in  this  life. 
As  by  natural  marriage  there  are  '  two  in  one  flesh,'  * 
so  also  in  the  spiritual  marriage  between  God  and  the 
soul  there  are  two  natures  in  one  spirit  and  love,  as  we 
learn  from  St.  Paul,  who  made  use  of  the  same  metaphor, 

*  Gen.  ii.  24. 


[STAN.  XXII.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I73 

saying,  '  He  that  cleaveth  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit.'  * 
So,  when  the  hght  of  a  star,  or  of  a  candle,  is  united  to 
that  of  the  sun,  the  hght  is  not  that  of  tlie  star,  nor  of 
the  candle,  but  of  the  sun  itself,  which  absorbs  all  other 
light  in  its  own. 

4.  It  is  of  this  state  that  the  Bridegroom  is  now 
speaking,  saying,  '  The  bride  has  entered  '  ;  that  is,  out 
of  all  temporal  and  natural  things,  out  of  all  spiritual 
affections,  ways,  and  methods,  having  left  on  one  side, 
and  forgotten,  all  temptations,  trials,  sorrows,  anxieties 
and  cares,  transformed  in  this  embrace. 

'  The  pleasant  and  desirable  garden.' 

5.  That  is,  the  soul  is  transformed  in  God,  Who  is 
here  called  the  pleasant  garden  because  of  the  delicious 
and  sweet  repose  which  the  soul  finds  in  Him.  But  the 
soul  does  not  enter  the  garden  of  perfect  transformation, 
the  glory  and  the  joy  of  the  spiritual  marriage,  without 
passing  first  through  the  spiritual  betrothal,  the  mutual 
faithful  love  of  the  betrothed.  When  the  soul  has  lived 
for  some  time  as  the  bride  of  the  Son,  in  perfect  and 
sweet  love,  God  calls  it  and  leads  it  into  His  flourishing 
garden  for  the  celebration  of  the  spiritual  marriage. 
Then  the  two  natures  are  so  united,  what  is  divine 
is  so   communicated    to  what    is  human,  that,  without 

*  I  Cor.  vi.  17. 


174  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.    XXII.] 

undergoing  any  essential  change,  each  seems  to  be 
God — yet  not  perfectly  so  in  this  life,  though  still 
in  a  manner  which  can  neither  be  described  nor 
conceived, 

6.  We  learn  this  truth  very  clearly  from  the  Bride- 
groom Himself  in  the  Canticle,  where  He  invites  the 
soul,  now  His  bride,  to  enter  this  state,  saying  :  '  I  am 
come  into  My  garden,  O  my  sister,  my  bride  :  I  have 
gathered  My  myrrh  with  My  aromatical  spices.'  *  He 
calls  the  soul  His  sister,  His  bride,  for  it  is  such  in  love 
by  that  surrender  which  it  has  made  of  itself  before  He 
had  called  it  to  the  state  of  spiritual  marriage,  when, 
as  He  says.  He  gathered  His  myrrh  with  His  aromatical 
spices  ;  that  is,  the  fruits  of  flowers  now  ripe  and  made 
ready  for  the  soul,  which  are  the  delights  and  grandeurs 
communicated  to  it  by  Himself  in  this  state,  that  is 
Himself,  and  for  which  He  is  the  pleasant  and  desirable 
garden. 

7.  The  whole  aim  and  desire  of  the  soul  and  of  God, 
in  all  this,  is  the  accomplishment  and  perfection  of  this 
state,  and  the  soul  is  therefore  never  weary  till  it  reaches 
it  ;  because  it  finds  there  a  much  greater  abundance  and 
fulness  in  God,  a  more  secure  and  lasting  peace,  and  a 
sweetness  incomparably  more  perfect  than  in  the  spiritual 
betrothal,   seeing  that   it   reposes  between  the  arms  of 

*  Cant.  V.   I. 


[STAN.  XXII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I75 

such  a  Bridegroom,  Whose  spiritual  embraces  are  so 
real  that  it,  through  them,  lives  the  life  of  God.  Now 
is  fulfilled  what  St.  Paul  referred  to  when  he  said  :  '  I 
live  ;  now  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me.'  *  And  now 
that  the  soul  lives  a  life  so  happy  and  so  glorious  as 
this  life  of  God,  consider  what  a  sweet  life  it  must  be — 
a  life  where  God  sees  nothing  displeasing,  and  where  the 
soul  finds  nothing  irksome,  but  rather  the  glory  and 
delight  of  God  in  the  very  substance  of  itself,  now  trans- 
formed in  Him. 

*  And  there  reposes  to  her  heart's  content  ; 

her  neck  reclining  on  the  sweet  arms  of  the  Beloved.' 

8.  The  neck  is  the  soul's  strength,  by  means  of 
which  its  union  with  the  Beloved  is  wrought  ;  for 
the  soul  could  not  endure  so  close  an  embrace  if  it 
had  not  been  very  strong.  And  as  the  soul  has 
laboured  in  this  strength,  practised  virtue,  overcome 
vice,  it  is  fitting  that  it  should  rest  there  from  its 
labours,  '  her  neck  reclining  on  the  sweet  arms  of  the 
Beloved.' 

9.  This  reclining  of  the  neck  on  the  arms  of  God  is 
the  union  of  the  soul's  strength,  or,  rather,  of  the  soul's 
weakness,  with  the  strength  of  God,  in  Whom  our  weak- 
ness, resting  and  transformed,  puts  on  the  strength  of 

*  Gal.  ii.  20. 


176  A   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.    XXII.] 

God  Himself.  The  state  of  spiritual  matrimony  is 
therefore  most  fitly  designated  by  the  reclining  of  the 
neck  on  the  sweet  arms  of  the  Beloved  ;  seeing  that 
God  is  the  strength  and  sweetness  of  the  soul,  Who 
guards  and  defends  it  from  all  evil  and  gives  it  to  taste 
of  all  good. 

10.  Hence  the  bride  in  the  Canticle,  longing  for  this 
state,  saith  to  the  Bridegroom  :  '  Who  shall  give  to  me 
Thee  my  brother,  sucking  the  breast  of  my  mother, 
that  I  may  find  Thee  without,  and  kiss  Thee,  and  now 
no  man  may  despise  me.'  *  By  addressing  Him  as  her 
Brother  she  shows  the  equality  between  them  in  the 
betrothal  of  love,  before  she  entered  the  state  of  spiritual 
marriage.  '  Sucking  the  breast  of  my  mother  '  signifies 
the  drying  up  of  the  passions  and  desires,  which  are  the 
breasts  and  milk  of  our  mother  Eve  in  our  flesh,  which 
are  a  bar  to  this  state.  The  '  finding  Him  without  '  is 
to  find  Him  in  detachment  from  all  things  and  from  self 
when  the  bride  is  in  solitude,  spiritually  detached,  which 
takes  place  when  all  the  desires  are  quenched.  '  And 
kiss  Thee  ' — that  is,  be  united  with  the  Bridegroom,  alone 
with  Him  alone. 

11.  This  is  the  union  of  the  nature  of  the  soul,  in 
solitude,  cleansed  fromx  all  impurity,  natural,  temporal, 
and    spiritual,    with    the    Bridegroom    alone,    wdth    His 

*  Cant.  viii.  i. 


[STAN.  XXII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I77 

nature,  by  love  only — of  that  love  which  is  the  only  love 
of  the  spiritual  marriage,  wherein  the  soul,  as  it  were, 
kisses  God  when  none  despises  it  nor  makes  it  afraid. 
For  in  this  state  the  soul  is  no  longer  molested,  either 
by  the  devil,  or  the  flesh,  or  the  world,  or  the  desires, 
seeing  that  here  is  fulfilled  what  is  written  in  the  Can- 
ticle :  '  Winter  is  now  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone. 
The  flowers  have  appeared  in  our  land.'  * 


NOTE 

When  the  soul  has  been  raised  to  the  high  state  of 
spiritual  marriage,  the  Bridegroom  reveals  to  it,  as  His 
faithful  consort.  His  own  marvellous  secrets  most  readily 
and  most  frequently,  for  he  who  truly  and  sincerely 
loves  hides  nothing  from  the  object  of  his  affections. 
The  chief  matter  of  His  communications  are  the  sweet 
mysteries  of  His  incarnation,  the  ways  and  means  of 
redemption,  which  is  one  of  the  highest  works  of  God, 
and  so  is  to  the  soul  one  of  the  sweetest.  Though  He 
communicates  many  other  mysteries.  He  speaks  in  the 
following  stanza  of  His  incarnation  only,  as  being  the 
chief  ;  and  thus  addresses  the  soul  in  the  words  that 
follow  : 

*  Cant.  ii.   II,   12. 

12 


178  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIII.] 

STANZA    XXIII 

Beneath  the  apple-tree, 
There  wert  thou  betrothed, 
There  I  gave  thee  My  hand. 
And  thou  wert  redeemed 
Where  thy  mother  was  corrupted. 

The  Bridegroom  tells  the  soul  of  the  wondrous  way  of 
its  redemption  and  betrothal  to  Himself,  by  referring 
to  the  way  in  which  the  human  race  was  lost.  As  it 
was  by  the  forbidden  tree  of  paradise  that  our  nature  was 
corrupted  in  Adam  and  lost,  so  it  was  by  the  tree  of  the 
Cross  that  it  was  redeemed  and  restored.  The  Bridegroom 
there  stretched  forth  the  hand  of  His  grace  and  mercy, 
in  His  death  and  passion,  '  making  void  the  law  of 
commandments  '  *  which  original  sin  had  placed  between 
us  and  God. 

'  Beneath  the  apple-tree,' 

2.  That  is  the  wood  of  the  Cross,  where  the  Son  of 
God  was  conqueror,  and  where  He  betrothed  our  human 
nature  to  Himself,  and,  by  consequence,  every  soul  of 
man.  There,  on  the  Cross,  He  gave  us  grace  and 
pledges  of  His  love. 

'  There  wert  thou  betrothed, 
there  I  gave  thee  My  hand.' 

*  Eph.  ii.    15. 


[STAN.  XXIII.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM       I79 

3.  '  Help  and  grace,  lifting  thee  up  out  of  thy  base 
and  miserable  condition  to  be  My  companion  and  My 
bride.' 

'  And  thou  wert  redeemed 

where  thy  mother  was  corrupted.' 

4.  '  Thy  mother,  human  nature,  was  corrupted  in  her 
first  parents  beneath  the  forbidden  tree,  and  thou  wert 
redeemed  beneath  the  tree  of  the  Cross.  If  thy  mother 
at  that  tree  sentenced  thee  to  die,  I  from  the  Cross  have 
given  thee  life.  It  is  thus  that  God  reveals  the  order 
and  dispositions  of  His  wisdom  :  eliciting  good  from 
evil,  and  turning  that  which  has  its  origin  in  evil  to  be 
an  instrument  of  greater  good.  This  stanza  is  nearly 
word  for  word  what  the  Bridegroom  in  the  Canticle 
saith  to  the  bride  :  '  Under  the  apple-tree  I  raised  thee 
up  :  there  thy  mother  was  corrupted  ;  there  she  was 
defloured  that  bare  thee.'  * 

5.  It  is  not  the  betrothal  of  the  Cross  that  I  am 
speaking  of  now — that  takes  place,  once  for  all,  when 
God  gives  the  first  grace  to  the  soul  in  baptism.  I  am 
speaking  of  the  betrothal  in  the  way  of  perfection, 
which  is  a  progressive  work.  And  though  both  are 
but  one,  yet  there  is  a  difference  between  them.  The 
latter  is  effected  in  the  way  of  the  soul,  and  therefore 

*  Cant.  viii.  5.  _ 


l8o  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIII.] 

slowly  ;  the  former  in  the  way  of   God,  and   therefore 
at  once. 

6.     The  betrothal  of  which  I  am  speaking  is  that  of 
which  God  speaks  Himself  by  the  mouth  of  the  prophet 
Ezechiel,  saying  :    '  Thou  wert  cast  out  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth  in  the  abjection  of  thy  soul,  in  the  day  that 
thou  wert  born.     And  passing  by  thee,  I  saw  that  thou 
wert  trodden  under  foot  in  thy  blood  ;    and  I  said  to 
thee  when  thou  w^rt  in  thy  blood  :   Live  :    I  said  to  thee, 
I  say  ;    in  thy  blood  live.     Multiplied  as  the  spring  of 
the  field  have  I  made  thee  ;    and  thou  w^ert  multiplied 
and  made  great,  and  thou  wentest  in,  and  camest  to  the 
ornaments    of    women  ;     thy    breasts    swelled    and    thy 
hair  budded  :   and  thou  wert  naked  and  full  of  confusion. 
And  I  passed  by  thee  and  saw  thee,   and  behold,  thy 
time,   the   time  of  lovers  ;    and   I  spread  My  garment 
over  thee,  and  covered  thy  ignominy.     And  I  swore  to 
thee  ;    and  I  entered  a  covenant  with  thee,  saith  the 
Lord  God  ;    and  thou  wert  made  Mine.     And  I  washed 
thee  with  water,   and  made  clean  thy  blood  from  off 
thee  :     and   I   anointed  thee   with  oil.     And   I   clothed 
thee  with  divers  colours,  and  shod  thee  with  hyacinth, 
and  I  girded  thee  with  silk  and  clothed  thee  with  fine 
garments.     And   I   adorned  thee  with  ornaments,   and 
put  bracelets  on  thy  hands,  and  a  chain  about  thy  neck. 
And  I  put  a  jewel  upon  thy  forehead  and  rings  in  thy 


[STAN.  XXIII.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM      l8l 

ears,  and  a  crown  of  beauty  on  thy  head.  And  thou 
wert  adorned  with  gold  and  silver,  and  wert  clothed 
with  silk,  and  embroidered  work,  and  many  colours  : 
thou  didst  eat  fine  flour,  and  honey,  and  oil,  and  wert 
made  beautiful  exceedingly,  and  advanced  to  be  a  queen. 
And  thy  name  went  forth  among  the  nations  because 
of  thy  beauty.'  *  These  are  the  words  of  Ezechiel,  and 
this  is  the  state  of  that  soul  of  which  I  am  now  speaking. 

NOTE 

After  the  mutual  surrender  to  each  other  of  the  bride 
and  the  Beloved,  comes  their  bed.  Thereon  the  bride 
enters  into  the  joy  of  Christ.  Thus  the  present  stanza 
refers  to  the  bed,  which  is  pure  and  chaste,  and  divine, 
and  in  which  the  bride  is  pure,  divine,  and  chaste.  The 
bed  is  nothing  else  but  the  Bridegroom  Himself,  the 
Word,  the  Son  of  God,  in  Whom,  through  the  union  of 
love,  the  bride  reposes.  This  bed  is  said  to  be  of  flowers, 
for  the  Bridegroom  is  not  only  that,  but,  as  He  says 
Himself  of  Himself,  '  I  am  the  flower  of  the  field  and  the 
lily  of  the  valleys.'  f  The  soul  reposes  not  only  on  the 
bed  of  flowers,  but  on  that  very  flower  which  is  the  Son 
of  God,  and  which  contains  in  itself  the  divine  odour, 
fragrance,  grace,  and  beauty,  as  He  saith  by  the  mouth 

*  Ezech.  xvi.  5-14  |  Cant.  ii.   i. 


l82  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIV.] 

of  David,  '  With  me  is  the  beauty  of  the  field.'  *  The 
soul,  therefore,  in  the  stanza  that  follows,  celebrates  the 
properties  and  beauties  of  its  bed,  saying  : 


STANZA    XXIV 

THE    BRIDE 

Our  bed  is  of  flowers, 

By  dens  of  lions  encompassed,  "»    • 

Hung  with  purple. 

Made  in  peace, 

And  crowned  with  a  thousand  shields  of  gold. 

In  two  of  the  foregoing  stanzas — the  fourteenth  and 
the  fifteenth — the  bride-soul  celebrated  the  grace  and 
magnificence  of  the  Beloved,  the  Son  of  God.  In  the 
present  stanza  she  not  only  pursues  the  same  subject, 
but  also  sings  of  her  high  and  blessed  state,  and  her  own 
security  in  it.  She  then  proceeds  to  the  virtues  and 
rich  gifts  with  which  she  is  endowed  and  adorned  in  the 
chamber  of  the  Bridegroom  ;  for  she  says  that  she  is 
in  union  with  Him,  and  is  strong  in  virtue.  Next  she 
says  that  she  has  attained  to  the  perfection  of  love,  and 
then  that  she  enjoys  perfect  spiritual  peace,  endowed 
and  adorned  with  gifts  and  graces,  so  far  as  it  is  possib^.e 
to  have  them  in  this  life.     The  first  subject  of  the  stanza 

*  Ps.  xlix.   II. 


[STAN.  XXIV,]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      183 

is  the  joy  which  the  bride  feels  in  her  union  with  the 
Beloved,  saying  : 

'  Our  bed  is  of  flowers.' 

2.  I  have  already  said  that  this  bed  of  the  soul  is 
the  bosom  and  love  of  the  Son  of  God,  full  of  flowers  to 
the  soul,  which  now  united  to  God  and  reposing  in 
Him,  as  His  bride,  shares  the  bosom  and  love  of  the 
Beloved.  That  is,  the  soul  is  admitted  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  wisdom,  secrets  and  graces,  and  gifts  and  powers 
of  God,  whereby  it  is  made  so  beautiful,  so  rich,  so 
abounding  in  delights  that  it  seems  to  be  lying  on  a 
bed  of  many-coloured  divine  flowers,  the  touch  of 
which  makes  it  thrill  with  joy,  and  the  odours  of 
which  refresh  it. 

3.  This  union  of  love  with  God  is  therefore  most 
appropriately  called  a  bed  of  flowers,  and  is  so  called 
by  the  bride  in  the  Canticle,  saying  to  the  Beloved, 
'  Our  bed  is  of  flowers.'  *  She  speaks  of  it  as  ours, 
because  the  virtues  and  the  love,  one  and  the  same,  of 
the  Beloved  are  common  to  both  together,  and  the 
de  ight  of  both  is  one  and  the  same  ;  as  it  is  written  : 
'  My  delights  were  to  be  with  the  children  of  men.'  f 
The  bed  is  said  to  be  of  flowers,  because  in  this  state 
the  virtues  in   the  soul  are  perfect  and  heroic,   which 

f  Cant.  i.   15.  t   Prov.  viii.  31. 


184  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIV.] 

they  could  not  be  until  the  bed  had  flowered  in  perfect 
union  with  God. 

'  By  dens  of  lions  encompassed.' 

4.  The  dens  of  lions  signify  the  virtues  with  which 
the  soul  is  endowed  in  the  state  of  union.  The  dens  of 
lions  are  safe  retreats,  protected  from  all  other  animals, 
who,  afraid  of  the  boldness  and  strength  of  the  lion 
within,  are  afraid  not  only  to  enter,  but  even  to  appear 
in  sight.  So  each  virtue  of  the  soul  in  the  state  of  per- 
fection is  like  a  den  of  lions  where  Christ  dwells  united 
to  the  soul  in  that  virtue  ;  and  in  every  one  of  them  as 
a  strong  lion.  The  soul  also,  united  to  Him  in  those 
very  virtues,  is  as  a  strong  lion,  because  it  then  partakes 
of  the  perfections  of  God. 

5.  Thus,  then,  the  perfect  soul  is  so  defended,  so 
strong  in  virtue,  and  in  all  virtues  together,  reposing 
on  the  flowery  bed  of  its  union  with  God,  that  the  evil 
spirits  are  not  only  afraid  to  assault  it,  but  even  dare 
not  appear  before  it  ;  such  is  their  dread  of  it,  when 
they  behold  it  strong,  courageous,  and  mature  in  its 
perfect  virtues,  on  the  bed  of  the  Beloved.  The  evil 
spirits  fear  a  soul  transformed  in  the  union  of  love  as 
much  as  they  fear  the  Beloved  Himself,  and  they  dare 
not  look  upon  it,  for  Satan  is  in  great  fear  of  that  soul 
which  has  attained  to  perfection. 


[STAN.  XXIV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      185 

6.  The  soul's  bed  is  encompassed  by  virtues  :  they 
are  the  dens,  for  when  the  soul  has  advanced  to  perfection, 
its  virtues  are  so  perfectly  ordered,  and  so  joined  together 
and  bound  up  one  with  another,  each  supporting  the 
other,  that  no  part  of  it  is  weak  or  exposed.  Not  only 
is  Satan  unable  to  penetrate  within  it,  but  even  worldly 
things,  whether  great  or  little,  fail  to  disturb  or  annoy 
it,  or  even  move  it  ;  for  being  now  free  from  all  molesta- 
tion of  natural  affections,  and  a  stranger  to  the  worry 
of  temporal  anxieties,  it  enjoys  in  security  and  peace 
the  participat'on  of  God. 

7.  This  is  that  for  which  the  bride  longed  when  she 
'said,  '  Who  shall  give  to  me  Thee  my  brother,  sucking 

the  breast  of  my  mother,  that  I  may  find  Thee  without, 
and  kiss  Thee,  and  now  no  man  may  despise  me  ?  '  *  The 
'  kiss  '  here  is  the  union  of  which  I  am  speaking,  whereby 
the  soul,  by  love,  becomes  in  a  sense  the  equal  of  God. 
This  is  the  object  it  des'res  when  it  says,  '  Who  shall 
give  to  me  Thee  my  brother  ?  '  That  means  and  makes 
equality.  '  Sucking  the  breast  of  my  mother  '  ;  that  is, 
destroying  all  the  imperfections  and  desires  of  nature 
which  the  soul  inherits  from  its  mother  Eve.  '  That  I 
may  find  Thee  without  '  ;  that  is,  '  be  united  to  Thee 
alone,  away  from  all  things,  in  detachment  of  the  will  and 
desires.'  '  And  now  no  man  may  despise  me  '  ;  that  is, 
*  Cant.  viii.  i. 


l86  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIV.] 

the  world,  the  devil,  and  the  flesh  will  not  venture  to 
assail  it,  for  being  free  and  purified,  and  also  united  to 
God,  none  of  these  can  molest  it.  Thus,  then,  the  soul 
is  in  the  enjoyment  now  of  habitual  sweetness  and 
tranquillity  that  never  fail  it. 

8.  But  beside  this  habitual  contentment  and  peace, 
the  flowers  of  the  virtues  of  this  garden  so  open  in  the 
soul  and  diffuse  their  odours  that  it  seems  to  be,  and 
is,  full  of  the  delights  of  God.  I  say  that  the  flowers 
open  ;  because  the  soul,  though  filled  with  the  virtues 
in  perfection,  is  not  always  in  the  actual  fruition  of 
them,  notwithstanding  its  habitual  perception  of  the 
peace  and  tranquillity  which  they  produce.  We  may 
say  of  these  virtues  that  they  are  in  this  life  like  the 
budding  flowers  of  a  garden  ;  they  offer  a  most  beautiful 
sight — opening  under  the  inspirations  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
— and  d  ffuse  most  marvellous  perfumes  in  great  variety. 

9.  Sometimes  the  soul  will  discern  in  itself  the 
mountain  flowers — the  fulness,  grandeur,  and  beauty  of 
God — intermingled  with  the  lilies  of  the  valley — rest, 
refreshment,  and  defence  ;  and  again  among  them,  the 
fragrant  roses  of  the  strange  islands — the  strange  know- 
ledge of  God  ;  and  further,  the  perfume  of  the  water 
lilies  of  the  roaring  torrents — the  majesty  of  God  filling 
the  whole  soul.  And  amid  all  this,  it  enjoys  the  exquisite 
fragrance  of  the  jasmine,  and  the  whisper  of  the  amorous 


[STAN.  XXIV.]      OF  THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM      187 

gales,  the  fruition  of  which  is  granted  to  the  soul  in 
the  estate  of  union,  and  in  the  same  way  all  the  other 
virtues  and  graces,  the  calm  knowledge,  silent  music, 
murmuring  solitude,  and  the  sweet  supper  of  love  ;  and 
the  joy  of  all  this  is  such  as  to  make  the  soul  say  in 
truth,  '  Our  bed  is  of  flowers,  by  dens  of  lions  encom- 
passed.' Blessed  is  that  soul  which  in  this  life  deserves 
at  times  to  enjoy  the  perfume  of  these  divine  flowers, 

'  Hung  with  purple.' 

10,  Purple  in  Holy  Scripture  means  charity,  and  kings 
are  clad  in  it,  and  for  that  reason  the  soul  says  that  the 
bed  of  flowers  is  hung  with  purple,  because  all  the  virtues, 
riches,  and  blessings  of  it  are  sustained,  flourish,  and 
are  delighted  only  in  charity  and  love  of  the  King  of 
heaven  ;  without  that  love  the  soul  can  never  delight 
in  the  bed  nor  in  the  flowers  thereof.  All  these  virtues, 
therefore,  are,  in  the  soul,  as  if  hung  on  the  love  of  God, 
as  on  that  which  preserves  them,  and  they  are,  as  it 
were,  bathed  in  love  ;  for  all  and  each  of  them  always 
make  the  soul  love  God,  and  on  all  occasions  and  in 
all  actions  they  advance  in  love  to  a  greater  love  of 
God.  That  is  what  is  meant  by  saying  that  the  bed  is 
hung  with  purple. 

II.     This   is  well  expressed   in   the   sacred   Canticle  : 
'  King  Solomon  hath  made  himself  a  litter  of  the  wood 


l88  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIV.] 

of  Libanus  :  the  pillars  thereof  he  hath  made  of  silver, 
the  seat  of  gold,  the  going  up  of  purple  ;  the  midst  he 
hath  paved  with  charity.'  *  The  virtues  and  graces 
which  God  lays  in  the  bed  of  the  soul  are  signified  by  the 
wood  of  Libanus  :  the  pillars  of  silver  and  the  seat  of 
gold  are  love  ;  for,  as  I  have  said,  the  virtues  are  main- 
tained by  love,  and  by  the  love  of  God  and  of  the  soul 
are  ordered  and  bring  forth  fruit. 

'  Made  in  peace.' 

12.  This  is  the  fourth  excellence  of  the  bed,  and 
depends  on  the  third,  of  which  I  have  just  spoken.  For 
the  third  is  perfect  charity,  the  property  of  which  is, 
as  the  Apostle  saith,  to  cast  out  fear  ;  f  hence  the  perfect 
peace  of  the  soul,  which  is  the  fourth  excellence  of  this 
bed.  For  the  clearer  understand'ng  of  this  we  must 
keep  in  mind  that  each  virtue  is  in  itself  peaceful,  gentle, 
and  strong,  and  consequently,  in  the  soul  which  possesses 
them,  produces  peace,  gentleness,  and  fortitude.  Now, 
as  the  bed  is  of  flowers,  formed  of  the  flowers  of  virtues, 
all  of  which  are  peaceful,  gentle,  and  strong,  it  follows 
that  the  bed  is  wrought  in  peace,  and  the  soul  is  peaceful, 
gentle,  and  strong,  which  are  three  qualities  unassailable 
by  the  world,  Satan,  and  the  flesh.  The  virtues  pre- 
serve the  soul  in  such  peace  and  security  that  it  seems 

*  Cant.  iii.  9,   10.  f   i  St.  John  iv.   18. 


[STAN.  XXIV.]      OF    THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      189 

to  be  wholly  built  up  in  peace.     The  fifth  property  of 
this  bed  of  flowers  is  explained  in  the  following  words  : 

'  Crowned  with  a  thousand  shields  of  gold.' 

13.  The  shields  are  the  virtues  and  graces  of  the 
soul,  which,  though  they  are  also  the  flowers,  serve  for 
its  crown,  and  the  reward  of  the  toil  by  which  they  are 
acquired.  They  serve  also,  like  strong  shields,  as  a 
protection  against  the  vices,  which  it  overcame  by  the 
practice  of  them  ;  and  the  bridal  bed  of  flowers  therefore 
— that  is,  the  virtues,  the  crowm  and  defence — is  adorned 
with  them  by  way  of  reward,  and  protected  by  them  as 
with  a  shield.  The  shields  are  said  to  be  of  gold, to  show 
the  great  worth  of  the  virtues.  The  bride  in  the  Canticle 
sets  forth  the  same  truth,  saying  :  '  Three  score  valiant 
men  of  the  most  valiant  of  Israel  surround  the  little  bed 
of  Solomon,  all  holding  swords  ;  .  .  .  every  man's  sword 
upon  his  thigh,  because  of  fears  in  the  night.'  * 

14.  Thus  in  this  stanza  the  bride  speaks  of  a  thousand 
shields,  to  express  the  variety  of  the  virtues,  gifts,  and 
graces  wherewith  God  has  endowed  the  soul  in  this  state. 
The  Bridegroom  also  in  the  Canticle  has  employed  the 
same  expression,  in  order  to  show  forth  the  innumerable 
virtues  of  the  soul,  saying  :  '  Thy  neck  is  as  the  tower 
of  David,   which  is  built   with  bulwarks  ;    a  thousand 

*  Cant.  iii.  7,  8, 


IQO  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXV.] 

shields    hang    upon    it,     all     the    armour     of     valiant 
men.'  * 


NOTE 

The  soul,  having  attained  to  perfection,  is  not  satisfied 
with  magnifying  and  extolling  the  excellencies  of  the 
Beloved,  the  Son  of  God,  nor  with  recounting  and  giving 
thanks  for  the  graces  received  at  His  hands  and  the  joy 
into  which  it  has  entered,  but  recounts  also  the  graces 
conferred  on  other  souls.  In  this  blessed  union  of  love 
the  soul  is  able  to  contemplate  both  its  own  and  others' 
graces  ;  thus  praising  Him  and  giving  Him  thanks  for 
the  many  graces  bestowed  upon  others,  it  sings  as  in  the 
following  stanza : 

STANZA    XXV 

In  Thy  footsteps 
The  young  ones  run  Thy  way  ,' 
At  the  touch  of  the  fire, 
And  by  the  spiced  wine, 
The  divine  balsam  flows. 

Here  the  bride  gives  thanks  to  her  Beloved  for  three 
graces  which  devout  souls  receive  from  Him,  by  which 
they  encourage  and  excite  themselves  to  love  God  more 
and  more.     She  speaks  of   them  here    because  she  has 

*  Cant.  iv.  4. 


[STAN.  XXV.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM       IQI 

had  experience  of  them  herself  in  this  state  of  union. 
The  first  is  sweetness,  which  He  gives  them,  and  which 
is  so  efficacious  that  it  makes  them  run  swiftly  on  the 
road  of  perfection.  The  second  is  a  visit  of  love,  by 
which  they  are  suddenly  set  on  fire  with  love.  The 
third  is  overflowing  charity  infused  into  them,  with 
which  He  so  inebriates  them  that  they  are  as  much 
excited  by  it  as  by  the  visit  of  love,  to  utter  the  praises 
of  God,  and  to  love  Him  with  all  sweetness. 

'  In  Thy  footsteps.' 

2.  These  are  the  marks  on  the  ground  by  which  we 
trace  the  course  of  one  we  seek.  The  sweetness  and 
knowledge  of  Himself  which  God  communicates  to  the 
soul  that  seeks  Him  are  the  footsteps  by  which  it  traces 
and  recognises  Him.  Thus  the  soul  says  to  the  Word, 
the  Bridegroom,  '  In  Thy  footsteps  ' — '  in  the  traces  of 
Thy  sweetness  which  Thou  diffusest,  and  the  odours 
which  Thou  scatterest.' 

'  The  young  ones  run  Thy  way.' 

3.  '  Devout  souls  run  with  youthful  vigour  in  the 
sweetness  which  Thy  footsteps  communicate.'  They  run 
in  many  ways  and  in  various  directions — each  according 
to  the  spirit  which  God  bestows,  and  the  vocation  He 
has  given — in  the  diversified  forms  of  spiritual  service 


192  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXV.] 

on  the  road  of  everlasting  life,  which  is  evangelical  per- 
fection, where  they  meet  the  Beloved  in  the  union  of 
love,  in  spiritual  detachment  from  all  things. 

4.  This  sweetness  and  impression  of  Himself  which 
God  leaves  in  the  soul  render  it  light  and  active  in 
running  after  Him  ;  for  the  soul  then  does  little  or 
nothing  in  its  own  strength  towards  running  along  this 
road,  being  rather  attracted  by  the  divine  footsteps,  so 
that  it  not  only  advances,  but  even  runs,  as  I  said  before, 
in  many  ways.  The  bride  in  the  Canticle,  therefore, 
prays  for  the  divine  attraction,  saying,  '  Draw  me,  we 
will  run  after  Thee  to  the  odour  of  Thy  ointments  '  ;  * 
and  David  saith,  '  I  have  run  the  way  of  Thy  command- 
ments, when  Thou  didst  dilate  my  heart.'  f 

*  At  the  touch  of  the  fire,  and  by  the  spiced  wine, 
the  divine  balsam  flows.' 

5.  I  said,  while  explaining  the  previous  lines,  that 
souls  run  in  His  footsteps  in  the  way  of  exterior  works. 
But  the  three  lines  I  have  just  quoted  refer  to  the  in- 
terior acts  of  the  will,  when  souls  are  under  the  influence 
of  the  other  two  graces  and  interior  visits  of  the  Beloved. 
These  are  the  touch  of  fire,  and  spiced  wine  ;  and  the 
interior  act  of  the  will,  which  is  the  result  of  these  visits, 
is  the  flowing  of  the  divine  balsam.     The  contact  of  the 

*  Cant.  i.  3.  f   Ps.  cxviii."  32. 


[STAN.  XXV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        I93 

fire  is  that  most  delicate  touch  of  the  Beloved  which  the 
soul  feels  at  times  even  when  least  expecting  it,  and 
which  sets  the  heart  on  fire  \vith  love,  as  if  a  spark  of 
fire  had  fallen  upon  it  and  made  it  burn.  Then  the 
will,  in  an  instant,  like  one  roused  from  sleep,  burns 
with  the  fire  of  love,  longs  for  God,  praises  Him  and  gives 
Him  thanks,  worships  and  honours  Him,  and  prays 
to  Him  in  the  sweetness  of  love, 

6.  This  is  the  flowing  of  the  divine  balsam,  which 
obeys  the  touch  of  the  fire  that  issues  forth  from  the 
consuming  love  of  God  which  that  fire  kindled  ;  the 
divine  balsam  which  comforts  the  soul  and  heals  it  with 
its  odour  and  its  substance. 

7.  The  bride  in  the  Canticle  speaks  of  this  divine 
touch,  saying,  '  My  Beloved  put  His  hand  through  the 
opening,  and  my  belly  trembled  at  His  touch.'  *  The 
touch  of  the  Beloved  is  the  touch  of  love,  and  His  hand 
is  the  grace  He  bestows  upon  the  soul,  and  the  opening 
through  which  He  puts  His  hand  is  the  vocation  and  the 
perfection,  at  least  the  degree  of  perfection  of  the  soul ; 
for  according  thereto  will  His  touch  be  heavier  or 
lighter,  in  proportion  to  its  spiritual  state.  The 
belly  that  trembled  is  the  will,  in  which  the  touch 
is  effected,  and  the  trembling  is  the  stirring  up  of  the 
desires   and  ^affections    to    iove,    long    for,    and    praise 

*  Cant.  V.  4. 

13 


194  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXV.] 

God,    which   is    the    flowing    of   the    balsam    from    this 
touch. 

8,  '  The  spiced  wine  '  is  that  exceeding  great  grace 
which  God  sometimes  bestows  upon  advanced  souls, 
when  the  Holy  Spirit  inebriates  them  with  the  sweet, 
luscious,  and  strong  wine  of  love.  Hence  it  is  here 
called  spiced  wine,  for  as  such  wine  is  prepared  by  fermen- 
tation with  many  and  divers  aromatic  and  strengthening 
herbs  ;  so  this  love,  the  gift  of  God  to  the  perfect,  is 
in  the  soul  prepared  and  seasoned  with  the  virtues 
already  acquired.  This  love,  seasoned  with  the  precious 
spices,  communicates  to  the  soul  such  a  strong,  abundant 
inebriation  when  God  visits  it  that  it  pours  forth  with 
great  effect  and  force  those  acts  of  rapturous  praise, 
love,  and  worship  which  I  referred  to  before,  and  that 
with  a  marvellous  longing  to  labour  and  to  suffer  for  Him. 

9.  This  sweet  inebriation  and  grace,  however,  do  not 
pass  quickly  away,  like  the  touch  of  the  fire,  for  they  are 
of  longer  continuance.  The  fire  touches  and  passes,  but 
the  effects  abide  often  ;  and  sometimes  the  spiced  wine 
continues  for  a  considerable  time,  and  its  effects  also  ; 
this  is  the  sweet  love  of  the  soul,  and  continues  occa- 
sionally a  day  or  two,  sometimes  even  many  days 
together,  though  not  always  in  the  same  degree  of  inten- 
sity, because  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  soul  to  control 
it.     Sometimes  the  soul,  without  any  effort  of  its  own,  is 


[STAN.  XXV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM       I95 

conscious  of  a  most  sweet  interior  inebriation,  and  of  the 
divine  love  burning  within,  as  David  saith,  '  My  heart 
waxed  hot  within  me,  and  in  my  meditation  a  fire  shall 
burn.'  * 

10.  The  outpourings  of  this  inebriation  last  some- 
times as  long  as  the  inebriation  itself.  At  other  times 
there  are  no  outpourings  ;  and  they  are  more  or  less 
intense  when  they  occur,  in  proportion  to  the  greater 
or  less  intensity  of  the  inebriation  itself.  But  the  out- 
pourings, or  effects  of  the  fire,  generally  last  longer 
than  the  fire  which  caused  them  ;  yea,  rather  the  fire 
leaves  them  behind  in  the  soul,  and  they  are  more  vehe- 
ment than  those  which  proceed  from  the  inebriation, 
for  sometimes  this  divine  fire  burns  up  and  consumes 
the  soul  in  love. 

11.  As  I  have  mentioned  fermented  wine,  it  will  be 
well  to  touch  briefly  upon  the  difference  between  it,  when 
it  is  old,  and  new  wine  ;  the  difference  between  old  wine 
and  new  wine  is  the  same,  and  will  furnish  a  little  in- 
struction for  spiritual  men.  New  wine  has  not  settled 
on  the  lees,  and  is  therefore  fermenting ;  we  cannot 
ascertain  its  quality  or  worth  before  it  has  settled,  and 
the  fermentation  has  ceased,  for  until  then  there  is  great 
risk  of  its  corruption.  The  taste  of  it  is  rough  and 
sharp,    and   an   immoderate   draught   of   it   intoxicates. 

*  Ps.  xxxviii.  4. 


196  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXV.] 

Old  wine  has  settled  on  the  lees,  and  ferments  no  more 
like  new  wine  ;  the  quality  of  it  is  easily  ascertained, 
and  it  is  now  very  safe  from  corruption,  for  all  fermenta- 
tion which  might  have  proved  pernicious  has  entirely 
ceased.  Well-fermented  wine  is  very  rarely  spoiled,  the 
taste  of  it  is  pleasant,  and  its  strength  is  in  its  own  sub- 
stance, not  in  the  taste,  and  the  drinking  thereof  produces 
health  and  a  sound  constitution. 

12.  New  lovers  are  compared  to  new  wine  ;  these 
are  beginners  in  the  service  of  God,  because  the  fervour 
of  their  love  manifests  itself  outwardly  in  the  senses  ; 
because  they  have  not  settled  on  the  lees  of  sense,  frail 
and  imperfect  ;  and  because  they  measure  the  strength 
of  love  by  the  sweetness  of  it,  for  it  is  sensible  sweetness 
that  ordinarily  gives  them  their  strength  for  good  works, 
and  it  is  by  this  they  are  influenced  ;  we  must,  therefore, 
place  no  confidence  in  this  love  till  the  fermentation  has 
subsided,  with  the  coarse  satisfaction  of  sense. 

13.  For  as  these  fervours  and  sensible  warmth  may 
incline  men  to  good  and  perfect  love,  and  serve  as  an 
excellent  means  thereto,  when  the  lees  of  imperfections 
are  cleared  ;  so  also  is  it  very  easy  at  first,  when  sensible 
sweetness  is  fresh,  for  the  wine  of  love  to  fail,  and  the 
sweetness  of  the  new  to  vanish.  New  lovers  are  always 
anxious,  sensibly  tormented  by  their  love  ;  it  is  necessary 
for  them  to  put  some  restraint  upon  themselves,  for  if 


[STAN.  XXV.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM       I97 

they  are  very  active  in  the  strength  of  this  wine,  their 
natural  powers  will  be  ruined  mth  these  anxieties  and 
fatigues  of  the  new  wine,  which  is  rough  and  sharp,  and 
not  made  sweet  in  the  perfect  fermentation,  which  then 
takes  place  when  the  anxieties  of  love  are  over,  as  I  shall 
show  immediately. 

14.  The  Wise  Man  employs  the  same  illustration  ; 
saying,  '  A  new  friend  is  as  new  wine  ;  it  shall  grow  old, 
and  thou  shalt  drink  it  with  pleasure.'  *  Old  lovers, 
therefore,  who  have  been  tried  and  proved  in  the  service 
of  the  Bridegroom,  are  like  old  wine  settled  on  the  lees  ; 
they  have  no  sensible  emotions,  nor  outbursts  of  exterior 
zeal,  but  they  taste  the  sweetness  of  the  wine  of  love, 
now  thoroughly  fermented,  not  sweet  to  the  senses  as 
was  that  of  the  love  of  beginners,  but  rather  settled 
within  the  soul  in  the  substance  and  sweetness  of  the 
spirit,  and  in  perfect  good  works.  Such  souls  as  these 
do  not  seek  after  sensible  sweetness  and  fervours, 
neither  do  they  wish  for  them,  lest  they  should 
suffer  from  loathing  and  weariness  ;  for  he  who  gives 
the  reins  to  his  desires  in  matters  of  sense  must  of 
necessity  suffer  pain  and  loathing,  both  in  mind  and 
body. 

15.  Old  lovers,  therefore,  free  from  that  spiritual 
sweetness  which  has  its  roots  in  the  senses,  suffer  neither 

*  Ecclus.  ix.   15. 


198  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXV.] 

in  sense  nor  spirit  from  the  anxieties  of  love,  and  thus 
scarcely  ever  prove  faithless  to  God,  because  they  have 
risen  above  that  which  might  be  an  occasion  of  falling, 
namely,  the  flesh.  These  now  drink  of  the  wine  of  love, 
which  is  not  only  fermented  and  free  from  the  lees,  but 
spiced  also  with  the  aromatic  herbs  of  perfect  virtues, 
which  will  not  allow  it  to  corrupt,  as  may  happen  to  new 
wine. 

16.  For  this  cause  an  old  friend  is  of  great  price  in 
the  eyes  of  God  :  '  Forsake  not  an  old  friend,  for  the  new 
will  not  be  like  to  him.'*  It  is  through  this  wine  of 
love,  tried  and  spiced,  that  the  divine  Beloved  produces 
in  the  soul  that  divine  inebriation,  under  the  influence 
of  which  it  sends  forth  to  God  the  sweet  and  delicious 
outpourings.  The  meaning  of  these  three  lines,  there- 
fore, is  as  follows  :  '  At  the  touch  of  the  fire,  by  which 
Thou  stirrest  up  the  soul,  and  by  the  spiced  wine  with 
which  Thou  dost  so  lovingly  inebriate  it,  the  soul  pours 
forth  the  acts  and  movements  of  love  which  are  Thy 
work  within  it.' 


NOTE 

Such,  then,  is  the  state  of  the  blessed  soul  in  the  bed 
of  flowers,   where  all  these  blessings,   and  many  more, 

*  Ecclus.  ix.   14. 


[STAN.  XXV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        IQQ 

are  granted  it.  The  seat  of  that  bed  is  the  Son  of  God, 
and  the  hangings  of  it  are  the  charity  and  love  of  the 
Bridegroom  Himself.  The  soul  now  may  say,  with 
the  bride,  '  His  left  hand  is  under  my  head,'*  and  we 
may  therefore  say,  in  truth,  that  such  a  soul  is  clothed 
in  God,  and  bathed  in  the  Divinity,  and  that,  not  as 
it  were  on  the  surface,  but  in  the  interior  spirit,  and 
filled  with  the  divine  delights  in  the  abundance  of  the 
spiritual  waters  of  life  ;  for  it  experiences  that  which 
David  says  of  those  who  have  drawn  near  unto  God  : 
'  They  shall  be  inebriated  with  the  plenty  of  Thy 
house,  and  Thou  shalt  make  them  drink  of  the  torrent 
of  Thy  pleasure,  for  with  Thee  is  the  fountain  of 
life.'t 

2.  This  fulness  will  be  in  the  very  being  of  the  soul, 
seeing  that  its  drink  is  nothing  else  but  the  torrent  of 
delights,  and  that  torrent  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  it  is  written  : 
'  And  he  showed  me  a  river  of  living  water,  clear  as 
crystal,  proceeding  from  the  throne  of  God  and  the 
Lamb. 'J  This  water,  being  the  very  love  itself  of  God, 
flows  into  the  soul,  so  that  it  drinks  of  the  torrent  of 
love,  which  is  the  spirit  of  the  Bridegroom  infused  into 
the  soul  in  union.  Thence  the  soul  in  the  overflowing 
of  its  love  sings  the  following  stanza  : 

*  Cant.  ii.  6.  f  Ps.  xxxv.  9. 

J  Apoc.  xxii.   J, 


200  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

STANZA    XXVI 

lit  the  inner  cellar 

Of  my  Beloved  have  I  drunk  ;  and  ivhen  I  went  foyth 

Over  all  the  plain 

I  knew  nothing, 

And  lost  the  flock  I  followed  before. 

Here  the  soul  speaks  of  that  sovereign  grace  of  God 
in  taking  it  to  Himself  into  the  house  of  His  love,  which 
is  the  union,  or  transformation  of  love  in  God.  It 
describes  two  effects  proceeding  therefrom  :  forgetfulness 
of,  and  detachment  from,  all  the  things  of  this  world, 
and  the  mortification  of  its  tastes  and  desires. 

'  In  the  inner  cellar.' 

2.  In  order  to  explain  in  any  degree  the  meaning  of 
this,  I  have  need  of  the  special  help  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
to  direct  my  hand  and  guide  my  pen.  The  cellar  is  the 
highest  degree  of  love  to  which  the  soul  may  attain  in 
this  life,  and  is  therefore  said  to  be  the  inner.  It  follows 
from  this  that  there  are  other  cellars  not  so  interior  ; 
that  is,  the  degrees  of  love  by  which  souls  reach  this, 
the  last.  These  cellars  are  seven  in  number,  and  the 
soul  has  entered  into  them  all  when  it  has  in  perfection 
the  seven  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  so  far  as  it  is  possible 
for  it.  When  the  soul  has  the  spirit  of  fear  in  perfection, 
it  has  in  perfection  also  the  spirit  of  love,  inasmuch  as 


[STAN.  XXVI.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      201 

this  fear,  the  last  of  the  seven  gifts,  is  fihal  fear,  and 
the  perfect  fear  of  a  son  proceeds  from  his  perfect  love 
of  his  father.  Thus  when  the  Holy  Scripture  speaks  of 
one  as  having  perfect  charity,  it  says  of  him  that  he 
fears  God.  So  the  prophet  Isaias,  announcing  the 
perfections  of  Christ,  saith  of  Him,  '  The  spirit  of  the 
fear  of  the  Lord  shall  replenish  him.'*  Holy  Simeon 
also  is  spoken  of  by  the  Evangelist  as  a  '  just  man  full 
of  fear,'!  ^-^d  the  same  applies  to  many  others. 

3.  Many  souls  reach  and  enter  the  first  cellar,  each 
according  to  the  perfection  of  its  love,  but  the  last  and 
inmost  cellar  is  entered  by  few  in  this  world,  because 
therein  is  wrought  the  perfect  union  with  God,  the 
union  of  the  spiritual  marriage,  of  which  the  soul  is 
now  speaking.  What  God  communicates  to  the  soul 
in  this  intimate  union  is  utterly  ineffable,  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  possible  words — just  as  it  is  impossible  to 
speak  of  God  Himself  so  as  to  convey  any  idea  of  what 
He  is — because  it  is  God  Himself  who  communicates 
Himself  to  the  soul  now  in  the  marvellous  bliss  of  its 
transformation.  In  this  state  God  and  the  soul  are 
united,  as  the  window  is  with  the  light,  or  coal  with  the 
fire,  or  the  light  of  the  stars  with  that  of  the  sun,  yet, 
however,  not  so  essentially  and  completely  as  it  will 
be  in  the  life  to  come.     The  soul,   therefore,  to  show 

*  Isa.  xi.  3.  f  St.    Luke   ii.    25.     Justus   et   timoratus. 


202  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN,  XXVI.] 

what  it  veceived  from  the  hands  of  God  in  the  cellar  of 
wine,  says  nothing  else,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  anything 
could  be  said  but  the  words  which  follow  : 

'  Of  my  Beloved  have  I  drunk.' 

4.  As  a  draught  diffuses  itself  through  all  the  members 
and  veins  of  the  body,  so  this  communication  of  God 
diffuses  itself  substantially  in  the  whole  soul,  or  rather, 
the  soul  is  transformed  in  God.  In  this  transformation 
the  soul  drinks  of  God  in  its  very  substance  and  its 
spiritual  powers.  In  the  understanding  it  drinks  wisdom 
and  knowledge,  in  the  will  the  sweetest  love,  in  the 
memory  refreshment  and  delight  in  the  thought  and 
sense  of  its  bliss.  That  the  soul  receives  and  drinks 
delight  in  its  very  substance,  appears  from  the  words 
of  the  bride  in  the  Canticle  :  '  My  soul  melted  as  He 
spoke  '* — that  is,  when  the  Bridegroom  communicated 
Himself  to  the  soul. 

5.  That  the  understanding  drinks  wisdom  is  evident 
from  the  words  of  the  bride  longing  and  praying  for 
the  kiss  of  union  :  '  There  Thou  shaft  teach  me,  and 
I  will  give  thee  a  cup  of  spiced  wine.'t  '  Thou  shaft 
teach  me  wisdom  and  knowledge  in  love,  and  I  will 
give  Thee  a  cup  of  spiced  wine — that  is,  my  love  mingled 
with  Thine.'     The  bride  says  that  the  will  also  drinks 

*  Cant.  V.  6.  f   lb.  viii.  2. 


[STAN.  XXVI.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      203 

of  love,  saying  :  '  He  brought  me  into  the  cellar  of  wine  ; 
He  hath  ordered  in  me  charity,'* — that  is,  '  He  gave 
me  His  love,  embracing  me,  to  drink  of  love '  ;  or,  to 
speak  more  clearly,  '  He  ordered  in  me  His  charity, 
tempering  His  charity  and  to  the  purpose  making  it 
mine.'  This  is  to  give  the  soul  to  drink  of  the  very 
love  of  its  Beloved,  which  the  Beloved  infuses  into  it. 

6.  There  is  a  common  saying  that  the  will  cannot 
love  that  of  which  the  understanding  has  no  knowledge. 
This,  however,  is  to  be  understood  in  the  order  of  nature, 
it  being  impossible,  in  a  natural  way,  to  love  anything 
unless  we  first  know  what  it  is  we  love.  But  in  a  super- 
natural way  God  can  certainly  infuse  love  and  increase 
it  without  infusing  and  increasing  distinct  knowledge, 
as  is  evident  from  the  texts  already  quoted.  Yea, 
many  spiritual  persons  have  experience  of  this  ;  their 
love  of  God  burns  more  and  more,  while  their  know- 
ledge does  not  grow.  Men  may  know  little  and  love 
much,  and  on  the  other  hand,  know  much  and  love 
but  Httle. 

7.  In  general,  those  spiritual  persons  whose  knowledge 
of  God  is  not  very  great  are  usually  very  rich  in  all 
that  belongs  to  the  will,  and  infused  faith  suffices  them 
for  this  knowledge,  by  means  of  which  God  infuses 
and   increases    charity   in   them    and   the    acts   thereof, 

*  Cant.  ii.  4. 


204  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

which  are  to  love  Him  more  and  more  though  knowledge 
is  not  increased.  Thus  the  will  may  drink  of  love  while 
the  understanding  drinks  in  no  fresh  knowledge.  In 
the  present  instance,  however,  all  the  powers  of  the 
soul  together,  because  of  the  union  in  the  inner  cellar, 
drink  of  the  Beloved. 

8.  As  to  the  memory,  it  is  clear  that  the  soul  drinks 
of  the  Beloved  in  it,  because  it  is  enlightened  with  the 
light  of  the  understanding  in  remembering  the  blessings 
it  possesses  and  enjoys  in  union  with  the  Beloved. 

'  And  when  I  went  forth,' 

9.  That  is,  after  this  grace  ;  the  divine  draught 
having  so  deified  the  soul,  exalted  it,  and  inebriated  it 
in  God.  Though  the  soul  be  always  in  the  high  estate 
of  marriage  ever  since  God  has  placed  it  there,  never- 
theless actual  union  in  all  its  powers  is  not  continuous, 
though  the  substantial  union  is.  In  this  substantial 
union  the  powers  of  the  soul  are  most  frequently  in 
union,  and  drink  of  His  cellar,  the  understanding  by 
knowledge,  the  will  by  love,  etc.  We  are  not,  therefore, 
to  suppose  that  the  soul,  when  saying  that  it  went  out, 
has  ceased  from  its  substantial  or  essential  union  with 
God,  but  only  from  the  union  of  its  faculties,  which  is 
not,  and  cannot  be,  permanent  in  this  life  ;  it  is  from 
this  union,  then,  it  went  forth  when  it  wandered  over 


[STAN.  XXVI.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      205 

all  the  plain — that  is,   through    the  whole  breadth  of 
the  world. 

'  I  knew  nothing.' 

10.  This  draught  of  God's  most  deep  wisdom  makes 
the  soul  forget  all  the  things  of  this  world,  and  consider 
all  its  previous  knowledge,  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
whole  world  besides,  as  pure  ignorance  in  comparison 
with  this  knowledge. 

11.  For  a  clearer  understanding  of  this,  we  must 
remember  that  the  most  regular  cause  of  the  soul's 
ignoring  the  things  of  the  world,  when  it  has  ascended 
to  this  high  state,  is  that  it  is  informed  by  a  supernatural 
knowledge,  in  the  presence  of  which  all  natural  and 
worldly  knowledge  is  ignorance  rather  than  knowledge. 
For  the  soul  in  possession  of  this  knowledge,  which  is 
most  profound,  learns  from  it  that  all  other  knowledge 
not  included  in  this  knowledge  is  not  knowledge,  but 
ignorance,  and  worthless.  We  have  this  truth  in  the 
words  of  the  Apostle  when  he  said  that  '  the  wisdom  of 
this  world  is  foolishness  with  God.'  * 

12.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  soul  says  it  knows 
nothing,  now  that  it  has  drunk  of  the  divine  wisdom. 
The  truth  is  that  the  wisdom  of  men  and  of  the  whole 
world  is  mere  ignorance,  and  not  deserving  any  attention, 

*  I  Cor.  iii.   ig. 


206  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

but  it  is  a  truth  that  can  be  learned  only  in  that  truth 
of  the  presence  of  God  in  the  soul  communicating  to  it 
His  wisdom  and  making  it  strong  by  this  draught  of 
love  that  it  may  see  it  distinctly.  This  is  taught  us 
by  Solomon,  saying :  '  The  vision  that  the  man 
spake,  with  whom  God  is,  and  who  being  strengthened 
by  God  abiding  with  him,  said  :  I  am  the  most 
foolish  of  men,  and  the  wisdom  of  men  is  not  with 
me.'* 

13.  When  the  soul  is  raised  to  this  high  wisdom 
of  God,  the  wisdom  of  man  is  in  its  eyes  the  lowest 
ignorance  :  all  natural  science  and  the  works  of  God, 
if  accompanied  by  ignorance  of  Him,  are  as  ignorance  ; 
for  where  He  is  not  known,  there  nothing  is  known. 
'  The  deep  things  of  God  are  foolishness  to  men.'t  Thus 
the  divinely  wise  and  the  worldly  wise  are  fools  in  the 
estimation  of  each  other  ;  for  the  latter  cannot  under- 
stand the  wisdom  and  science  of  God,  nor  the  former 
those  of  the  world,  for  the  wisdom  of  the  world  is 
ignorance  in  comparison  with  the  wisdom  of  God  ;  and 
the  wisdom  of  God  is  ignorance  with  respect  to  that 
of  the  world. 

14.  Moreover,  this  deification  and  elevation  of  the 
spirit  in  God,  whereby  the  soul  is,  as  it  were,  rapt  and 
absorbed  in  love,  one  with  God,  suffer  it  not  to  dwell 

*  Prov.  XXX.   I,  2.  ]   I  Cor.  ii.  14. 


[STAN.  XXVI.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      20/ 

upon  any  worldly  matter.  The  soul  is  now  detached, 
not  only  from  all  outward  things,  but  even  from  itself  : 
it  is,  as  it  were,  undone,  assumed  by,  and  dissolved  in, 
love — that  is,  it  passes  out  of  itself  into  the  Beloved. 
Thus  the  bride,  in  the  Canticle,  after  speaking  of  her 
own  transformation  by  love  into  the  Beloved,  expresses 
her  state  of  ignorance  by  the  words  '  I  knew  not.'*  The 
soul  is  now,  in  a  certain  sense,  like  Adam  in  paradise, 
who  knew  no  evil.  It  is  so  innocent  that  it  sees  no  evil  ; 
neither  does  it  consider  anything  to  be  amiss.  It  will 
hear  much  that  is  evil,  and  will  see  it  with  its  eyes, 
and  yet  it  shall  not  be  able  to  understand  it,  because  it 
has  no  evil  habits  whereby  to  judge  of  it.  God  has 
rooted  out  of  it  those  imperfect  habits  and  that  ignorance 
resulting  from  the  evil  of  sin,  by  the  perfect  habit  of 
true  wisdom.  Thus,  also,  the  soul  knows  nothing  on 
this  subject. 

15.  Such  a  soul  will  scarcely  intermeddle  with  the 
affairs  of  others,  because  it  forgets  even  its  own  ;  for 
the  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  soul  in  which  He 
dwells  is  to  incline  it  to  ignore  those  things  which  do 
not  concern  it,  especially  such  as  do  not  minister  to 
edification.  The  Spirit  of  God  abides  within  the  soul 
to  withdraw  it  from  outward  things  rather  than  to 
lead  it  among  them  ;  and  thus  the  soul  knows  nothing 
*  Cant.  vi.  11. 


208  "  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

as  it  knew  it  formerly.  We  are  not,  however,  to  suppose 
that  it  loses  the  habits  of  knowledge  previously  acquired, 
for  those  habits  are  improved  by  the  more  perfect  habit 
of  supernatural  knowledge  infused,  though  these  habits 
be  not  so  powerful  as  to  necessitate  knowledge  through 
them,  and  yet  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
do  so  occasionally. 

i6.  In  this  union  of  the  divine  wisdom  these  habits 
are  united  with  the  higher  wisdom  of  other  knowledge, 
as  a  little  light  with  another  which  is  great  ;  it  is  the 
great  light  that  shines,  overwhelming  the  less,  yet  the 
latter  is  not  therefore  lost,  but  rather  perfected,  though 
it  be  not  the  light  which  shines  pre-eminently.  Thus, 
I  imagine,  will  it  be  in  heaven  ;  the  acquired  habits  of 
knowledge  in  the  just  \\i\\  not  be  destroyed,  though  they 
will  be  of  no  great  importance  there,  seeing  that  the 
just  will  know  more  in  the  divine  wisdom  than  by  the 
habits  acquired  on  earth. 

17.  But  the  particular  notions  and  forms  of  things, 
acts  of  the  imagination,  and  every  other  apprehension 
having  form  and  figure  are  all  lost  and  ignored  in  this 
absorbing  love,  and  this  for  two  reasons.  First,  the  soul 
cannot  actually  attend  to  anything  of  the  kind,  because 
it  is  actually  absorbed  by  this  draught  of  love.  Secondly, 
and  this  is  the  principal  reason,  its  transformation  in 
God  so  conforms  it  to  His  purity  and  simplicity — for  there 


[STAN.  XXVI.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      20g 

is  no  form  or  imaginary  figure  in  Him — as  to  render  it 
pure,  cleansed,  and  empty  of  all  the  forms  and  figures 
it  entertained  before,  being  now  purified  and  enlightened 
in  simple  contemplation.  All  spots  and  stains  in  the 
glass  become  invisible  when  the  sun  shines  upon  it,  but 
they  appear  again  as  soon  as  the  light  of  the  sun  is  with- 
held. 

i8.  So  is  it  with  the  soul ;  while  the  effects  of  this 
act  of  love  continue,  this  ignorance  continues  also,  so 
that  it  cannot  observe  anything  in  particular  until  these 
effects  have  ceased.  Love  has  set  the  soul  on  fire  and 
transmuted  it  into  love,  has  annihilated  it  and  destroyed 
it  as  to  all  that  is  not  love,  according  to  the  words  of 
David  :  '  My  heart  hath  been  inflamed,  and  my  reins 
have  been  changed  ;  and  I  am  brought  to  nothing,  and  I 
knew  not.'  *  The  changing  of  the  reins,  because  the 
heart  is  inflamed,  is  the  changing  of  the  soul,  in  all  its 
desires  and  actions,  in  God,  into  a  new  manner  of  life, 
the  utter  undoing  and  annihilation  of  the  old  man,  and 
therefore  the  prophet  said  that  he  was  brought  to  nothing 
and  knew  not. 

19.  These  are  the  two  effects  of  drinking  the  wine  of 
the  cellar  of  God  ;  not  only  is  all  previous  knowledge 
brought  to  nothing  and  made  to  vanish,  but  the  old  life 
also  with  its  imperfections  is  destroyed,  and  into  the  new 

*  Ps.  Ixxii.  21,   22, 

14 


210  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

man  renewed ;     this   is   the   second   of   the   two   effects 
described  in  the  words  that  follow  : 

'  And  lost  the  flock  I  followed  before.' 

20.  Until  the  soul  reaches  the  state  of  perfection, 
however  spiritual  it  may  be,  there  always  remains  a  troop 
of  desires,  likings,  and  other  imperfections,  sometimes 
natural,  sometimes  spiritual,  after  which  it  runs,  and 
which  it  tries  to  feed  while  following  and  satisfying  them. 
With  regard  to  the  understanding,  there  are  certain 
imperfections  of  the  desire  of  knowledge.  With  regard 
to  the  will,  certain  likings  and  peculiar  desires,  at  times 
in  temporal  things,  as  the  wish  to  possess  certain  trifles, 
and  attachment  to  some  things  more  than  to  others, 
certain  prejudices,  considerations,  and  punctilios,  with 
other  vanities,  still  savouring  of  the  world  :  and  again  in 
natural  things,  such  as  eating  and  drinking,  the  pre- 
ference of  one  kind  of  food  over  another,  and  the  choice 
of  the  best  :  at  another  time,  in  spiritual  things,  such  as 
seeking  for  sweetness,  and  other  follies  of  spiritual  persons 
not  yet  perfect,  too  numerous  to  recount  here.  As  to 
the  memory,  there  are  many  inconsistencies,  anxieties, 
unseemly  reminiscences,  which  drag  the  soul  captive 
after  them. 

21.     The  four  passions  of  the  soul  also  involve  it  in 
many  useless  hopes,  joys,  griefs,  and  fears,  after  which  it 


[STAN  XXVI.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM        211 

runs.  As  to  this  flock,  some  men  are  more  influenced  by 
it  than  others  ;  they  run  after  and  follow  it,  until  they 
enter  the  inner  cellar,  where  they  lose  it  altogether,  being 
then  transformed  in  love.  In  that  cellar  the  flock  of 
imperfections  is  easily  destroyed,  as  rust  and  mould  on 
metal  in  the  fire.  Then  the  soul  feels  itself  free  from 
the  pettiness  of  self-likings  and  the  vanities  after  which 
it  ran  before,  and  may  well  say,  '  I  have  lost  the  flock 
which  I  followed  before," 


NOTE 

God  communicates  Himself  to  the  soul  in  this  interior 
union  with  a  love  so  intense  that  the  love  of  a  mother, 
who  so  tenderly  caresses  her  child,  the  love  of  a  brother, 
or  the  affection  of  a  friend  bear  no  likeness  to  it,  for  so 
great  is  the  tenderness,  and  so  deep  is  the  love  with 
which  the  Infinite  Father  comforts  and  exalts  the  humble 
and  loving  soul.  O  wonders  worthy  of  all  awe  and 
reverence  !  He  humbles  Himself  in  reality  before  that 
soul  that  He  may  exalt  it,  as  if  He  were  its  servant,  and 
the  soul  His  lord.  He  is  as  anxious  to  comfort  it  as  if 
He  were  a  slave,  and  the  soul  God.  So  great  is  the 
humility  and  tenderness  of  God.  In  this  communion  of 
love  He  renders  in  a  certain  way  those  services  to  the 
soul  which  He  says  in  the  Gospel  He  wiU  perform  for  the 


212  A   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVI.] 

elect  in  heaven.  '  Amen,  I  say  to  you,  that  He  will  gird 
Himself  and  make  them  sit  down  to  meat,  and  passing 
will  minister  unto  them.'  * 

2.  This  very  service  He  renders  now  to  the  soul, 
comforting  and  cherishing  it,  as  a  mother  her  child  whom 
she  nurtures  in  her  bosom.  And  the  soul  recognises 
herein  the  truth  of  the  words  of  Isaias,  '  You  shall  be 
carried  at  the  breasts,  and  upon  the  knees  they  shall 
caress  you.'  t  What  must  the  feelings  of  the  soul  be 
amid  these  sovereign  graces  ?  How  it  will  melt  away 
in  love,  beholding  the  bosom  of  God  opened  for  it  with 
such  overflowing  love.  When  the  soul  perceives  itself 
in  the  midst  of  these  delights,  it  surrenders  itself  wholly 
to  God,  gives  to  Him  the  breasts  of  its  own  will  and  love, 
and  under  the  influence  thereof  addresses  the  Beloved 
in  the  words  of  the  bride  in  the  Canticle,  saying  :  '  I  to 
my  Beloved,  and  His  turning  is  towards  me.  Come, 
my  Beloved,  let  us  go  forth  into  the  field,  let  us  abide  in 
the  villages.  Let  us  rise  early  to  the  vineyards,  let  us 
see  if  the  vineyard  flourish,  if  the  flowers  be  ready  to 
bring  forth  fruits,  if  the  pomegranates  flourish  ;  there 
will  I  give  Thee  my  breasts  '  % — that  is,  '  I  will  employ  all 
the  joy  and  strength  of  my  will  in  the  service  of  Thy 
love.'  This  mutual  surrender  in  this  union  of  the  Soul 
and  God  is  the  subject  of  the  stanza  which  follows  : 

*  St.   Luke  xii.   37.         t   Isa.   Lxvi.    12.         J   Cant.   vii.    10-12. 


[STAN.  XXVII.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM      213 


STANZA    XXVII 

There  He  gave  me  His  breasts, 

There  He  taught  me  the  science  full  of  sweetness. 

A  nd  there  I  gave  to  Him 

Myself  without  reserve  ; 

There  I  promised  to  he  His  bride. 

Here  the  soul  speaks  of  the  two  contracting  parties  in 
this  spiritual  betrothal,  itself  and  God.  In  the  inner 
cellar  of  love  they  both  met  together,  God  giving  to  the 
soul  the  breasts  of  His  love  freely,  whereby  He  instructs 
it  in  His  mysteries  and  ^visdom,  and  the  soul  also  actually 
surrendering  itself,  making  no  reservation  whatever 
either  in  its  own  favour  or  in  that  of  others,  promising  to 
be  His  for  ever. 

'  There  He  gave  me  His  breasts.' 

2.  To  give  the  breast  to  another  is  to  love  and  cherish 
him  and  communicate  one's  secrets  to  him  as  a  friend. 
The  soul  says  here  that  God  gave  it  His  breasts — that 
is.  He  gave  it  His  love  and  communicated  His  secrets 
to  it.  It  is  thus  that  God  deals  with  the  soul  in  this 
state,  and  more,  too,  as  it  appears  from  the  words  that 
follow : 

'  There  He  taught  me  the  science  full  of  sweetness.' 

3.  This   science   is   mystical   theology,    which   is   the 


214  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVII.] 

secret  science  of  God,  and  which  spiritual  men  call  con- 
templation. It  is  most  full  of  sweetness  because  it  is 
knowledge  by  love,  love  is  the  master  of  it,  and  it  is  love 
that  renders  it  all  so  sweet.  Inasmuch  as  this  science 
and  knowledge  are  communicated  to  the  soul  in  that  love 
with  which  God  communicates  Himself,  it  is  sweet  to  the 
understanding,  because  knowledge  belongs  to  it,  and 
sweet  to  the  ^\dll,  because  it  comes  by  love  which  belongs 
to  the  will. 

'  There  I  gave  to  Him  myself  without  reserve.' 

4.  The  soul  in  this  sweet  draught  of  God,  surrenders 
itself  wholly  to  Him  most  wdllingly  and  wdth  great  sweet- 
ness ;  it  desires  to  be  wholly  His,  and  never  to  retain 
anything  which  is  unbecoming  His  Majesty.  God  is 
the  author  of  this  union,  and  of  the  purity  and  perfection 
requisite  for  it  ;  and  as  the  transformation  of  the  soul 
in  Himself  makes  it  His,  He  empties  it  of  all  that  is  alien 
to  Himself.  Thus  it  comes  to  pass  that,  not  in  vAW  only, 
but  in  act  as  well,  the  whole  soul  is  entirely  given  to  God 
vdthout  any  reserve  whatever,  as  God  has  given  Himself 
freely  unto  it.  The  will  of  God  and  of  the  soul  are  both 
satisfied,  each  given  up  to  the  other,  in  mutual  dehght, 
so  that  neither  fails  the  other  in  the  faith  and  constancy 
of  the  betrothal ;    therefore  the  soul  says  : 

*  There  I  promised  to  be  His  bride.' 


[STAN.  XXVII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      2I5 

5.  As  a  bride  does  not  give  her  love  to  another,  and 
as  all  her  thoughts  and  actions  are  directed  to  her  bride- 
groom only,  so  the  soul  now  has  no  affections  of  the  will, 
no  acts  of  the  understanding,  neither  object  nor  occupa- 
tion of  any  kind  which  it  does  not  wholly  refer  unto  God, 
together  with  all  its  desires.  The  soul  is,  as  it  were, 
absorbed  in  God,  and  even  its  first  movements  have 
nothing  in  them — so  far  as  it  can  comprehend  them — 
which  is  at  variance  with  the  will  of  God.  The  first 
movements  of  an  imperfect  soul  in  general  are,  at  least, 
inclined  to  evil,  in  the  understanding,  the  memory,  the 
will,  the  desires  and  imperfections  ;  but  those  of  the  soul 
which  has  attained  to  the  spiritual  state  of  which  I  am 
speaking  are  ordinarily  directed  to  God,  because  of  the 
great  help  and  courage  it  derives  from  Him,  and  its 
perfect  conversion  to  goodness.  This  is  set  forth  wdth 
great  clearness  by  David,  when  he  saith  :  '  Shall  not  my 
soul  be  subject  to  God  ?  For  from  Him  is  my  salvation. 
For  He  is  my  God  and  my  Saviour  ;  He  is  my  protector, 
I  shall  be  moved  no  more.'  *  '  He  is  my  protector  ' 
means  that  the  soul,  being  now  received  under  the  pro- 
tection of  God  and  united  to  Him,  is  no  longer  subject 
to  any  movements  contrary  to  God. 

6.     It  is  quite  clear  from  this  that  the  soul  which  has 
£Lttained  the  spiritual  betrothal  knows  nothing  else  but 

=*■   Ps.   Ixi.    2,    3. 


2l6  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVII.] 

the  love  of  the  Bridegroom  and  the  deHghts  thereof, 
because  it  has  arrived  at  perfection,  the  form  and  sub- 
stance of  which  is  love,  according  to  St.  Paul.*  The 
more  a  soul  loves,  the  more  perfect  it  is  in  its  love,  and 
hence  it  follows  that  the  soul  which  is  already  perfect 
is,  if  we  may  say  so,  all  love,  all  its  actions  are  love,  all 
its  energies  and  strength  are  occupied  in  love.  It  gives  up 
all  it  has,  like  the  wise  merchant,!  for  this  treasure  of  love 
which  it  finds  hidden  in  God,  and  which  is  so  precious  in 
His  sight,  and  the  Beloved  cares  for  nothing  else  but 
love  ;  the  soul,  therefore,  anxious  to  please  Him  perfectly, 
occupies  itself  wholly  in  pure  love  for  God,  not  only 
because  love  does  so  occupy  it,  but  also  because  the  love 
wherein  it  is  united  influences  it  towards  love  of  God  in 
and  through  all  things.  As  the  bee  draws  honey  from 
all  plants,  and  makes  use  of  them  only  for  that  end,  so 
the  soul  most  easily  draws  the  sweetness  of  love  from  all 
that  happens  to  it ;  makes  all  things  subserve  it  towards 
loving  God,  whether  they  be  sweet  or  bitter  ;  and  being 
animated  and  protected  by  love,  has  no  sense,  feeling, 
or  knowledge,  because,  as  I  have  said,  it  knows  nothing 
but  love,  and  in  all  its  occupations,  its  joy  is  its 
love  of  God.  This  is  explained  by  the  following 
stanza. 

*  Col.   iii.   14.  t   St.  Matt.  xiii.  44. 


[STAN.  XXVII.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      217 

NOTE 

I  HAVE  said  that  God  is  pleased  with  nothing  but  love  ; 
but  before  I  explain  this,  it  will  be  as  well  to  set  forth 
the  grounds  on  which  the  assertion  rests.  All  our 
works,  and  all  our  labours,  how  grand  soever  they  may 
be,  are  nothing  in  the  sight  of  God,  for  we  can  give  Him 
nothing,  neither  can  we  by  them  fulfil  His  desire,  which 
is  the  growth  of  our  soul.  As  to  Himself  He  desires 
nothing  of  this,  for  He  has  need  of  nothing,  and  so,  if  He 
is  pleased  with  anything  it  is  udth  the  growth  of  the 
soul ;  and  as  there  is  no  way  in  which  the  soul  can  grow 
but  in  becoming  in  a  manner  equal  to  Him,  for  this 
reason  only  is  He  pleased  mth  our  love.  It  is  the  pro- 
perty of  love  to  place  him  who  loves  on  an  equality  with 
the  object  of  his  love.  Hence  the  soul,  because  of  its 
perfect  love,  is  called  the  bride  of  the  Son  of  God,  which 
signifies  equality  with  Him.  In  this  equality  and  friend- 
ship all  things  are  common,  as  the  Bridegroom  Himself 
said  to  His  disciples  :  '  I  have  called  you  friends,  because 
all  things,  whatsoever  I  have  heard  of  my  Father,  I  have 
made  known  to  you.'  * 

*  St.   John  XV.    15. 


2l8  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXVIII.j 

STANZA    XXVIII 

My  soul  is  occupied, 

And  all  my  substance  in  His  service  ; 

Now  I  guard  no  flock, 

Nor  have  I  any  other  employment  : 

My  sole  occupation  is  love. 

The  soul,  or  rather  the  bride,  having  given  herself  wholly 
to  the  Bridegroom  without  any  reserve  whatever,  now 
recounts  to  the  Beloved  how  she  fulfils  her  task.  '  My 
soul  and  body,'  she  says,  '  all  my  abilities  and  all  my 
capacities,  are  occupied  not  with  other  matters,  but 
with  those  pertaining  to  the  service  of  the  Bridegroom.' 
She  is  therefore  not  seeking  her  o\\ti  proper  satisfaction, 
nor  the  gratification  of  her  owti  inclinations,  neither 
does  she  occupy  herself  in  anything  whatever  which  is 
alien  to  God  ;  yea,  even  her  communion  with  God  Him- 
self is  nothing  else  but  acts  of  love,  inasmuch  as  she  has 
changed  her  former  mode  of  conversing  with  Him  into 
loving. 

'  My  soul   IS   occupied.' 

2.  This  refers  to  the  soul's  surrender  of  itself  to  the 
Beloved  in  this  union  of  love,  wherein  it  devotes  itself, 
^^^th  all  its  faculties,  understanding,  will,  and  memory, 
to  His  service.  The  understanding  is  occupied  in  con- 
sidering what  most  tends  to  His  service,  in  order  that  it 
might  be  accomplished  ;    the  will,  in  loving  all  that  is 


[STAN.  XXVIII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     219 

pleasing  to  God,  and  in  desiring  Him  in  all  things  ;  the 
memory,  in  recalling  what  ministers  to  Him,  and  what 
may  be  more  pleasing  unto  Him. 

'  And  all  my  substance  in  His  service.' 

3.  By  substance  here  is  meant  all  that  relates  to  the 
sensual  part  of  the  soul,  which  includes  the  body,  with 
all  its  powers,  interior  and  exterior,  together  with  all  its 
natural  capacities — that  is,  the  four  passions,  the  natural 
desires,  and  the  whole  substance  of  the  soul,  all  of  which 
is  employed  in  the  service  of  the  Beloved,  as  well  as  the 
rational  and  spiritual  part,  as  I  explained  in  the  previous 
section.  As  to  the  body,  that  is  now  ordered  according 
to  God  in  all  its  interior  and  exterior  senses,  all  the  acts 
of  which  are  directed  to  God  ;  the  four  passions  of  the 
soul  are  also  under  control  in  Him  ;  for  the  soul's  joy, 
hope,  fear,  and  grief  are  conversant  with  God  only  ;  all 
its  appetites,  and  all  its  anxieties  also,  are  directed  unto 
Him  only. 

4.  The  whole  substance  of  the  soul  is  now  so  occupied 
with  God,  so  intent  upon  Him,  that  its  very  first  move- 
ments, even  inadvertently,  have  God  for  their  object  and 
their  end.  The  understanding,  memory,  and  will  tend 
directly  to  God ;  the  affections,  senses,  desires,  and 
longings,  hope  and  joy,  the  whole  substance  of  the  soul, 
rise  instantly  towards  God,  though  the  soul  is  making  no 


220  A   SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE         [STAN.  XXVIII.] 

conscious  efforts  in  that  direction.  Such  a  soul  is  very 
often  doing  the  worl<:  of  God,  intent  upon  Him  and  the 
things  of  God,  without  thinking  or  reflecting  on  what 
it  is  doing  for  Him.  The  constant  and  habitual  practice 
of  this  has  deprived  it  of  all  conscious  reflection,  and 
even  of  that  fervour  which  it  usually  had  when  it  began 
to  act.  The  whole  substance  of  the  soul  being  thus 
occupied,  what   follows  cannot  be  but  true  also. 

'  Now  I  guard  no  flock.' 

5.  '  I  do  not  now  go  after  my  likings  and  desires  ;  for 
having  fixed  them  upon  God,  I  no  longer  feed  or  guard 
them.'  The  soul  not  onty  does  not  guard  them  now, 
but  has  no  other  occupation  than  to  wait  upon  God. 

'  Nor  have  I  any  other  employment.' 

6.  Before  the  soul  succeeded  in  effecting  this  gift  and 
surrender  of  itself,  and  of  all  that  belongs  to  it,  to  the 
Beloved,  it  was  entangled  in  many  unprofitable  occupa- 
tions, b}'  which  it  sought  to  please  itself  and  others,  and 
it  may  be  said  that  its  occupations  of  this  kind  were 
as  many  as  its  habits  of  imperfection. 

7.  To  these  habits  belong  that  of  speaking,  thinking, 
and  the  doing  of  things  that  are  useless  ;  and  likewise, 
the  not  making  use  of  these  things  according  to  the 
requirements  of  the  soul's  perfection  ;    other  desires  also 


[STAN.  XXVIII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    221 

the  soul  may  have,  wherewith  it  ministers  to  the  desires 
of  others,  to  which  may  be  referred  display,  compli- 
ments, flattery,  human  respect,  aiming  at  being  well 
thought  of,  and  the  giving  pleasure  to  people,  and  other 
useless  actions,  by  which  it  laboured  to  content  them, 
wasting  its  efforts  herein,  and  finally  all  its  strength.  All 
this  is  over,  says  the  soul  here,  for  all  its  words,  thoughts, 
and  works  are  directed  to  God,  and,  conversant  with  Him, 
freed  from  their  previous  imperfections.  It  is  as  if  it 
said  :  '  I  follow  no  longer  either  my  o\vn  or  other  men's 
likings,  neither  do  I  occupy  or  entertain  myself  with 
useless  pastimes,  or  the  things  of  this  world.' 

'  My  sole  occupation  is  love.' 

8.  '  All  my  occupation  now  is  the  practice  of  the 
love  of  God,  all  the  powers  of  soul  and  body,  memory, 
understanding,  and  will,  interior  and  exterior  senses,  the 
desires  of  spirit  and  of  sense,  all  work  in  and  by  love. 
All  I  do  is  done  in  love  ;  all  I  suffer,  I  suffer  in  the  sweet- 
ness of  love.'  This  is  the  meaning  of  David  when  he 
said,  '  I  will  keep  my  strength  to  Thee.'  * 

9.  When  the  soul  has  arrived  at  this  state  all  the 
acts  of  its  spiritual  and  sensual  nature,  whether  active 
or  passive,  and  of  whatever  kind  they  may  be,  always 
occasion  an  increase  of  love  and  delight  in  God  :    even 

*  Ps.  Iviii.   10. 


222  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXVIII.] 

the  act  of  prayer  and  communion  with  God,  which  was 
once  carried  on  by  reflections  and  divers  other  methods, 
is  now  whohy  an  act  of  love.  So  much  so  is  this  the 
case  that  the  soul  may  always  say,  whether  occupied 
with  temporal  or  spiritual  things,  *  My  sole  occupation 
is  love.'  Happy  life  !  happy  state  !  and  happy  the  soul 
which  has  attained  to  it  !  where  all  is  the  very  substance 
of  love,  the  joyous  delights  of  the  betrothal,  when  it  may 
truly  say  to  the  Beloved  with  the  bride  in  the  Canticle, 
'  The  new  and  the  old,  my  Beloved,  have  I  kept  for 
Thee.'  *  'All  that  is  bitter  and  painful  I  keep  for  Thy 
sake,  all  that  is  sweet  and  pleasant  I  keep  for  Thee.' 
The  meaning  of  the  words,  for  my  purpose,  is  that  the 
soul,  in  the  state  of  spiritual  betrothal,  is  for  the  most 
part  living  in  the  union  of  love — that  is,  the  will  is 
habitually  waiting  lovingly  on  God. 


NOTE 

Of  a  truth  the  soul  is  now  lost  to  all  things,  and  gained 
only  to  love,  and  the  mind  is  no  longer  occupied  with 
anything  else.  It  is,  therefore,  deficient  in  what  con- 
cerns the  active  hfe,  and  other  exterior  duties,  that  it 
may  apply  in  earnest  to  the  one  thing  which  the  Bride- 
groom has  pronounced  necessary  ;  f  and  that  is  waiting 

*  Cant.  vii.   13.  f  St.  Luke  x.  42. 


[STAN.  XXVIII.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     223 

upon  God,  and  the  continuous  practice  of  His  love.  So 
precious  is  this  in  the  eyes  of  God  that  He  rebuked 
Martha  because  she  would  withdraw  Mary  from  His 
feet  to  occupy  her  actively  in  the  service  of  our  Lord. 
Martha  thought  that  she  was  doing  everything  herself, 
and  that  Mary  at  the  feet  of  Christ  was  doing  nothing. 
But  it  was  far  otherwise  :  for  there  is  nothing  better  or 
more  necessary  than  love.  Thus,  in  the  Canticle,  the 
Bridegroom  protects  the  bride,  adjuring  the  daughters 
of  Jerusalem — that  is,  all  created  things — not  to  disturb 
her  spiritual  sleep  of  love,  nor  to  waken  her,  nor  to  let  her 
open  her  eyes  to  anything  till  she  pleased.  '  I  adjure 
you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  that  you  stir  not  up,  nor 
awake  my  beloved  till  she  please.'  * 

2.  Observe,  however,  that  if  the  soul  has  not  reached 
the  state  of  unitive  love,  it  is  necessary  for  it  to  make 
acts  of  love,  as  well  in  the  active  as  in  the  contemplative 
life.  But  when  it  has  reached  it,  it  is  not  requisite  it 
should  occupy  itself  in  other  and  exterior  duties — unless 
they  be  matters  of  obligation — which  might  hinder,  were 
it  but  for  a  moment,  the  life  of  love  in  God,  though  they 
may  minister  greatly  to  His  service  ;  because  an  instant 
of  pure  love  is  more  precious  in  the  eyes  of  God  and  the 
soul,  and  more  profitable  to  the  Church,  than  all  other 
good  works  together,  though  it  may  seem  as  if  nothing 

*  Cant.  iii.  5. 


224  -"^   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXVIII.] 

were  done.  Thus,  Mary  Magdalene,  though  her  preach- 
ing was  most  edifying,  and  might  have  been  still  more 
so  afterwards,  out  of  the  great  desire  she  had  to  please 
God  and  benefit  the  Church,  hid  herself,  nevertheless, 
in  the  desert  thirty  years,  that  she  might  surrender  her- 
self entirely  to  love  ;  for  she  considered  that  she  would 
gain  more  in  that  way,  because  an  instant  of  pure  love 
is  so  much  more  profitable  and  important  to  the  Church. 
3.  When  the  soul,  then,  in  any  degree  possesses  the 
spirit  of  solitary  love,  we  must  not  interfere  with  it. 
We  should  inflict  a  grievous  wrong  upon  it,  and  upon 
the  Church  also,  if  we  were  to  occupy  it,  were  it  only  for 
a  moment,  in  exterior  or  active  duties,  however  im- 
portant they  might  be.  When  God  Himself  adjures  all 
not  to  waken  it  from  its  love,  who  shall  ventm"e  to  do 
so,  and  be  blameless  ?  In  a  word,  it  is  for  this  love  that 
we  are  all  created.  Let  those  men  of  zeal,  who  think 
by  their  preaching  and  exterior  works  to  convert  the 
world,  consider  that  they  would  be  much  more  edifying 
to  the  Church,  and  more  pleasing  unto  God — setting 
aside  the  good  example  they  would  give — if  they  would 
spend  at  least  one  half  their  time  in  prayer,  even  though 
they  may  have  not  attained  to  the  state  of  unitive  love. 
Certainly  they  would  do  more,  and  with  less  trouble,  by 
one  single  good  work  than  by  a  thousand  :  because  of 
the  merit  of  their  prayer,  and  the  spiritual  strength  it 


[STAN.  XXIX.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM       225 

supplies.  To  act  otherwise  is  to  beat  the  air,  to  do 
Httle  more  than  nothing,  sometimes  nothing  and  occa- 
sionally even  mischief  ;  for  God  may  give  up  such  persons 
to  vanity,  so  that  they  may  seem  to  have  done  some- 
thing, when  in  reality  their  outward  occupations  bear  no 
fruit ;  for  it  is  quite  certain  that  good  works  cannot  be 
done  but  in  the  power  of  God.  O  how  much  might  be 
written  on  this  subject  !  this,  however,  is  not  the  place 
for  it. 

4.  I  have  said  this  to  explain  the  stanza  that  follows, 
in  which  the  soul  replies  to  those  who  call  in  question  its 
holy  tranquillity,  who  will  have  it  wholly  occupied  with 
outward  duties,  that  its  light  may  shine  before  the  world  : 
these  persons  have  no  conception  of  the  fibres  and  the 
unseen  root  whence  the  sap  is  drawn,  and  which  nourish 
the  fruit. 

STANZA    XXIX 

//  then  on  the  common  land 
I  am  no  longer  seen  or  found, 
You  will  say  that  I  am  lost  ; 
That  being  enamoured, 
I  lost  myself  ;  and  yet  was  found. 

The  soul  replies  here  to  a  tacit  reproach.  Worldly 
people  are  in  the  habit  of  censuring  those  who  give  them- 
selves up  in  earnest  to  God,  regarding  them  as  extrava- 
gant, in  their  withdrawal  from  the  world,  and  in  their 

15 


226  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIX.] 

manner  of  life.  They  say  also  of  them  that  they  are 
useless  for  all  matters  of  importance,  and  lost  to  every- 
thing the  world  prizes  and  respects  !  This  reproach  the 
soul  meets  in  the  best  way  ;  boldly  and  courageously 
despising  it  with  everything  else  that  the  world  can  lay 
to  its  charge.  Having  attained  to  a  living  love  of  God, 
it  makes  little  account  of  all  this ;  and  that  is  not  all : 
it  confesses  it  itself  in  this  stanza,  and  boasts  that  it  has 
committed  that  folly,  and  that  it  is  lost  to  the  world  and 
to  itself  for  the  Beloved. 

2.  That  which  the  soul  is  saying  here,  addressing 
itself  to  the  world,  is  in  substance  this  :  '  If  you  see 
me  no  longer  occupied  with  the  subjects  that  engrossed 
me  once,  with  the  other  pastimes  of  the  world,  say  and 
believe  that  I  am  lost  to  them,  and  a  stranger  to  them, 
yea,  that  I  am  lost  of  my  own  choice,  seeking  my  Beloved 
whom  I  so  greatly  love.'  But  that  they  may  see  that 
the  soul's  loss  is  gain,  and  not  consider  it  folly  and  de- 
lusion, it  adds  that  its  loss  was  gain,  and  that  it  therefore 
lost  itself  deliberately. 

'  If  then  on  the  common  I  am  no  longer  seen  or  found. 

3.  The  common  is  a  public  place  where  people 
assemble  for  recreation,  and  where  shepherds  feed  their 
flocks.  By  the  common  here  is  meant  the  world  in 
general,  where  men  amuse  themselves  and  feed  the  herd 


[STAN.  XXIX.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM      227 

of  their  desires.  The  soul  says  to  the  worldly-minded  : 
'  If  you  see  me  no  more  where  I  used  to  be  before  I  gave 
myself  up  wholly  to  God,  look  upon  me  as  lost,  and  say 
so  '  :  the  soul  rejoices  in  that  and  would  have  men  so 
speak  of  it. 

'  Say   that   I   am   lost.' 

4.  He  who  loves  is  not  ashamed  before  men  of  what 
he  does  for  God,  neither  does  he  hide  it  through  shame 
though  the  whole  world  should  condemn  it.  He  who 
shall  be  ashamed  to  confess  the  Son  of  God  before  men, 
neglecting  to  do  His  work,  the  Son  of  God  also  will  be 
ashamed  to  acknowledge  him  before  His  Father.  '  He 
that  shall  deny  Me  before  men,  I  will  also  deny  him 
before  My  Father  Who  is  in  heaven.'  *  The  soul, 
therefore,  in  the  courage  of  its  love,  glories  in  what 
ministers  to  the  honour  of  the  Beloved,  in  that  it  has 
done  anything  for  Him  and  is  lost  to  the  things  of  the 
world. 

5.  But  few  spiritual  persons  arrive  at  this  perfect 
courage  and  resolution  in  their  conduct.  For  though 
some  attempt  to  practise  it,  and  some  even  think  them- 
selves proficients  therein,  they  never  entirely  lose 
themselves  on  certain  points  connected  with  the  world 
or  self,  so  as  to  be  perfectly  detached  for  the  sake  of 

*  St.  Matt.  X.  33- 


228  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIX.] 

Christ,  despising  appearances  and  the  opinion  of  the 
world.  These  can  never  answer,  '  Say  that  I  am  lost,' 
because  they  are  not  lost  to  themselves,  and  are 
still  ashamed  to  confess  Christ  before  men  through 
human  respect ;  these  do  not  therefore  really  live 
in  Christ. 

'  That   being  enamoured,' 

That  is,  practising  virtues  for  the  love  of  God, 
'  I  lost  m3^self  ;  and  yet  was  found.' 

6.  The  soul  remembers  well  the  words  of  the  Bride- 
groom in  the  Gospel :  '  No  man  can  serve  two  masters  ; 
for  either  he  will  hate  the  one  and  love  the  other,'  * 
and  therefore,  in  order  not  to  lose  God,  loses  all  that  is 
not  God,  that  is,  all  created  things,  even  itself,  being 
lost  to  all  things  for  the  love  of  Him.  He  who  truly 
loves  makes  shipwreck  of  himself  in  all  else  that  he 
may  gain  the  more  in  the  object  of  his  love.  Thus  the 
soul  says  that  it  has  lost  itself — that  is,  deliberately,  of 
set  purpose. 

7,  This  loss  occurs  in  two  ways.  The  soul  loses 
itself,  making  no  account  whatever  of  itself,  but  of  the 
Beloved,  resigning  itself  freely  into  His  hands  without 
any  selfish  views,  losing  itself  deliberately,  and  seeking 

*  St.  Matt.  vi.  24. 


[STAN.  XXIX.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM      229 

nothing  for  itself.  Secondly,  it  loses  itself  in  all  things, 
making  no  account  of  anything  save  that  which  concerns 
the  Beloved.  This  is  to  lose  oneself — that  is,  to  be  willing 
that  others  should  have  all  things.  Such  is  he  that 
loves  God  ;  he  seeks  neither  gain  nor  reward,  but  only 
to  lose  all,  even  himself,  according  to  God's  will ;  this 
is  what  such  an  one  counts  gain.  This  is  real  gain,  for 
the  Apostle  saith,  '  to  die  is  gain  '  * — that  is,  to  die  for 
Christ  is  my  gain  and  profit  spiritually.  This  is  why 
the  soul  says  that  it  '  was  found  '  ;  for  he  who  knows 
not  how  to  lose,  finds  not,  but  rather  loses  himself,  as 
our  Saviour  teaches  us  in  the  Gospel,  saying,  '  He  that 
will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it  ;  and  he  that  shall  lose  his 
life  for  My  sake  shall  find  it.'  f 

8.  But  if  we  wish  to  know  the  deeper  spiritual  meaning 
of  this  line,  and  its  peculiar  fitness  here,  it  is  as  follows  : 
When  a  soul  has  advanced  so  far  on  the  spiritual  road 
as  to  be  lost  to  all  the  natural  methods  of  communing 
with  God  ;  when  it  seeks  Him  no  longer  by  meditation, 
images,  impressions,  nor  by  any  other  created  ways, 
or  representations  of  sense,  but  only  by  rising  above 
them  all,  in  he  joyful  communion  with  Him  by  faith 
and  love,  then  it  may  be  said  to  have  found  God  of 
a  truth,  because  it  has  truly  lost  itself  as  to  all  that 
is  not  God,  and  also  as  to  its  own  self. 

*  Phil.  i.  21.  t  St.  Matt.  xvi.  25. 


230  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXIX.] 

NOTE 

The  soul  being  thus  gained,  all  its  works  are  gain,  for 
all  its  powers  are  exerted  in  the  spiritual  intercourse  of 
most  sweet  interior  love  with  the  Beloved.  The  interior 
communications  between  God  and  the  soul  are  now  so 
delicious,  so  full  of  sweetness,  that  no  mortal  tongue  can 
describe  them,  nor  human  understanding  comprehend 
them.  As  a  bride  on  the  day  of  her  betrothal  attends 
to  nothing  but  to  the  joyous  festival  of  her  love,  and 
brings  forth  all  her  jewels  and  ornaments  for  the  pleasure 
of  the  bridegroom,  and  as  he  too  in  the  same  way  exhibits 
his  own  magnificence  and  riches  for  the  pleasure  of  his 
bride,  so  is  it  in  the  spiritual  betrothal  where  the  soul 
feels  that  which  the  bride  says  in  the  Canticle,  '  I  to 
my  Beloved  and  my  Beloved  to  me.'  *  The  virtues 
and  graces  of  the  bride-soul,  the  grandeur  and  magni- 
ficence of  the  Bridegroom,  the  Son  of  God,  come  forth 
into  the  light,  for  the  celebration  of  the  bridal  feast, 
communicating  each  to  the  other  the  goods  and  joys 
with  the  wine  of  sweet  love  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  The 
present  stanza,  addressed  to  the  Bridegroom  by  the  soul, 
has  this  for  its  subject. 

*  Cant.  vi.  2. 


[STAN.  XXX.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        23I 

STANZA    XXX 

Of  emeralds,  and  of  flowers. 

In  the  early  morning  gathered. 

We  will  make  the  garlands, 

Flowering  in  Thy  love. 

And  bound  together  with  one  hair  of  my  head. 

The  bride  now  turns  to  the  Bridegroom  and  addresses 
Him  in  the  intercourse  and  comfort  of  love  ;  the  subject 
of  the  stanza  being  the  solace  and  delight  which  the 
bride-soul  and  the  Son  of  God  find  in  the  possession  of 
the  virtues  and  gifts  of  each  other,  and  in  the  exercise 
thereof,  both  rejoicing  in  their  mutual  love.  Thus  the 
soul,  addressing  the  Beloved,  says  that  they  will  make 
garlands  rich  in  graces  and  acquired  virtues,  obtained 
at  the  fitting  and  convenient  season,  beautiful  and 
lovely  in  the  love  He  bears  the  soul,  and  kept  together 
by  the  love  which  it  itself  has  for  Him.  This  rejoicing 
in  virtue  is  what  is  meant  by  making  garlands,  for  the 
soul  and  God  rejoice  together  in  these  virtues  bound 
up  as  flowers  in  a  garland,  in  the  common  love  which 
each  bears  the  other. 

'  Of  emeralds,  and  of  flowers.' 

2.  The  flowers  are  the  virtues  of  the  soul  ;  the 
emeralds  are  the  gifts  it  has  received  from  God.  Then 
of  these  flowers  and  emeralds 

'  In  the  early  morning  gathered.' 


232  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXX.] 

3.  That  is,  acquired  in  youth,  which  is  the  early 
morning  of  Ufe.  They  are  said  to  be  gathered  because 
the  virtues  which  we  acquire  in  youth  are  most  pleasing 
unto  God  ;  because  youth  is  the  season  when  our  vices 
most  resist  the  acquisition  of  them,  and  when  our  natural 
inclinations  are  most  prone  to  lose  them.  Those  virtues 
also  are  more  perfect  which  we  acquire  in  early  youth. 
This  time  of  our  life  is  the  early  morning  ;  for  as  the 
freshness  of  the  spring  morning  is  more  agreeable  than 
any  other  part  of  the  day,  so  also  are  the  virtues  acquired 
in  our  youth  more  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God. 

4.  By  the  fresh  morning  we  may  understand  those 
acts  of  love  by  which  we  acquire  virtue,  and  which 
are  more  pleasing  unto  God  than  the  fresh  morning  is 
to  the  sons  of  men  ;  good  works  also,  wrought  in  the 
season  of  spiritual  dryness  and  hardness  ;  this  is  the 
freshness  of  the  winter  morning,  and  what  we  then  do 
for  God  in  dryness  of  spirit  is  most  precious  in  His  eyes. 
Then  it  is  that  we  acquire  virtues  and  graces  abundantly ; 
and  what  we  then  acquire  with  toil  and  labour  is  for 
the  most  part  better,  more  perfect  and  lasting  than  what 
we  acquire  in  comfort  and  spiritual  sweetness ;  for 
virtue  sends  forth  its  roots  in  the  season  of  dryness, 
toil,  and  trial  :  as  it  is  written,  '  Virtue  is  made  perfect 
in  infirmity.'  *     It  is  with  a  view   to  show  forth  the 

.    .  _  *  2  Cor.  xii.  9. 


[STAN.  XXX.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM       233 

excellence  of  these  virtues,  of  which  the  garland  is  wrought 
for  the  Beloved,  that  the  soul  says  of  them  that  they 
have  been  gathered  in  the  early  morning  :  because  it 
is  these  flowers  alone,  with  the  emeralds  of  virtue,  the 
choice  and  perfect  graces,  and  not  the  imperfect,  which 
are  pleasing  to  the  Beloved,  and  so  the  bride  says  : 

'  We  will  make  the  garlands.' 

5.  All  the  virtues  and  graces  which  the*  soul,  and 
God  in  it,  acquire  are  as  a  garland  of  divers  flowers, 
wherewith  the  soul  is  marvellously  adorned,  as  with  a 
vesture  of  rich  embroidery.  As  material  flowers  are 
gathered,  and  then  formed  into  a  garland,  so  the  spiritual 
flowers  of  virtues  and  graces  are  acquired  and  set  in 
order  in  the  soul ;  and  when  the  acquisition  is  complete, 
the  garland  of  perfection  is  complete  also.  The  soul 
and  the  Bridegroom  rejoice  in  it,  both  beautiful,  adorned 
with  the  garland,  as  in  the  state  of  perfection. 

6.  These  are  the  garlands  which  the  soul  says  they 
will  make.  That  is,  it  will  wreathe  itself  with  this 
variety  of  flowers,  with  the  emeralds  of  virtues  and 
perfect  gifts,  that  it  may  present  itself  worthily  before 
the  face  of  the  King,  and  be  on  an  equality  with  Him, 
sitting  as  a  queen  on  His  right  hand  ;  for  it  has  merited 
this  by  its  beauty.  Thus  David  saith,  addressing  himself 
to   Christ  :     '  The   queen   stood   on   Thy   right   hand  in 


234  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXX.] 

vestments  of  gold,  girt  with  variety.'  *  That  is,  at  His 
right  hand,  clad  in  perfect  love,  girt  with  the  variety 
of  graces  and  perfect  virtues. 

7.  The  soul  does  not  say,  '  I  will  make  garlands,'  nor, 
'  Thou  wilt  make  them,'  but,  'We  will  make  them,'  not 
separately,  but  both  together  ;  because  the  soul  cannot 
practise  virtues  alone,  nor  acquire  them  alone,  without 
the  help  of  God  ;  neither  does  God  alone  create  virtue 
in  the  sou>  without  the  soul's  concurrence.  Though  it 
be  true,  as  the  Apostle  saith,  that  '  every  best  gift,  and 
every  perfect  gift,  is  from  above,  descending  from  the 
Father  of  lights,'  f  still  they  enter  into  no  soul  without 
that  soul's  concurrence  and  consent.  Thus  the  bride 
in  the  Canticle  saith  to  the  Bridegroom  :  '  Draw  me  ; 
we  will  run  after  thee.'  J  Every  inclination  to  good 
comes  from  God  alone,  as  we  learn  here  ;  but  as  to 
running,  that  is,  good  works,  they  proceed  from  God 
and  the  soul  together,  and  it  is  therefore  written,  '  We 
will  run ' — that  is,  both  together,  but  not  God  nor  the 
soul  alone. 

8.  These  words  may  also  be  fittingly  apphed  to 
Christ  and  His  Church,  which,  as  His  bride,  says  unto 
Him,  '  We  will  make  the  garlands.'  In  this  application 
of  the  words  the  garlands  are  the  holy  souls  born  to 
Christ  in  the  Church.     Every  such  soul  is  by  itself  a 

*  Ps.  xliv.   10.         t  St.  James  i.   17.         J  Cant,  i.  3. 


[STAN.  XXX.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        235 

garland  adorned  with  the  flowers  of  virtues  and  graces, 
and  all  of  them  together  a  garland  for  the  head  of  Christ 
the  Bridegroom. 

9.  We  may  also  understand  by  these  beautiful  gar- 
lands the  crowns  formed  by  Christ  and  the  Church,  of 
which  there  are  three  kinds.  The  first  is  formed  of 
the  beauty  and  white  flowers  of  the  virgins,  each  one 
with  her  virginal  crown,  and  forming  altogether  one 
crown  for  the  head  of  the  Bridegroom  Christ.  The 
second,  of  the  brilliant  flowers  of  the  holy  doctors,  each 
with  his  crown  of  doctor,  and  all  together  forming  one 
crown  above  that  of  the  virgins  on  the  head  of  Christ. 
The  third  is  composed  of  the  purple  flowers  of  the 
martyrs,  each  with  his  own  crown  of  martyrdom,  and 
all  united  into  one,  perfecting  that  on  the  head  of  Christ. 
Adorned  with  these  garlands  He  will  be  so  beautiful, 
and  so  lovely  to  behold,  that  heaven  itself  will  repeat 
the  words  of  the  bride  in  the  Canticle,  saying  :  '  Go 
forth,  ye  daughters  of  Sion,  and  see  king  Solomon  in 
the  diadem  wherewith  his  mother  crowned  him  in  the 
day  of  his  betrothal,  and  in  the  day  of  the  joy  of  his 
heart.'  *     The  soul  then  says  we  will  make  garlands. 

'  Flowering  in  Thy  love.' 

10.  The  flowering  of  good  works  and  virtues   is  the 

*  Cant.  iii.   11. 


236  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXX.] 

grace  and  power  which  they  derive  from  the  love  of 
God,  without  which  they  not  only  flower  not,  but  become 
even  dry,  and  worthless  in  the  eyes  of  God,  though 
they  may  be  humanly  perfect.  But  if  He  gives  His 
grace  and  love  they  flourish  in  His  love. 

*  And  bound  together  with  one  hair  of  my  head.' 

11.  The  hair  is  the  will  of  the  soul,  and  the  love  it 
bears  the  Beloved.  This  love  performs  the  function  of 
the  thread  that  keeps  the  garland  together.  For  as  a 
thread  binds  the  flowers  of  a  garland,  so  love  knits 
together  and  sustains  virtues  in  the  soul.  '  Charity  ' — 
that  is,  love — saith  the  Apostle,  '  is  the  bond  of  perfec- 
tion.' *  Love,  in  the  same  way,  binds  the  virtues  and 
supernatural  gifts  together,  so  that  when  love  fails  by 
our  departure  from  God,  all  our  virtue  perishes  also, 
just  as  the  flowers  drop  from  the  garland  when  the 
thread  that  bound  them  together  is  broken.  It  is  not 
enough  for  God's  gift  of  virtues  that  He  should  love 
us,  but  we  too  must  love  Him  in  order  to  receive  them, 
and  preserve  them. 

12.  The  soul  speaks  of  one  hair,  not  of  many,  to 
show  that  the  will  by  itself  is  fixed  on  God,  detached 
from  all  other  hairs  ;  that  is,  from  strange  love.  This 
points  out  the  great  price  and  worth  of  these  garlands  of 

*  Col.  iii.   14. 


[STAN.  XXX.]      OF   THE   SOUL  AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM        237 

virtues  ;  for  when  love  is  single,  firmly  fixed  on  God, 
as  here  described,  the  virtues  also  are  entire,  perfect, 
and  flowering  in  the  love  of  God  ;  for  the  love  He  bears 
the  soul  is  beyond  all  price,  and  the  soul  also  knows 
it  well. 

13.  Were  I  to  attempt  a  description  of  the  beauty 
of  that  binding  of  the  flowers  and  emeralds  together, 
or  of  the  strength  and  majesty  which  their  harmonious 
arrangement  furnishes  to  the  soul,  or  the  beauty  and 
grace  of  its  embroidered  vesture,  expressions  and  words 
would  fail  me  ;  for  if  God  says  of  the  evil  spirit,  '  His 
body  is  like  molten  shields,  shut  close  up  with  scales, 
pressing  upon  one  another,  one  is  joined  to  another, 
and  not  so  much  as  any  air  can  come  between  them  '  ;  * 
if  the  evil  spirit  be  so  strong,  clad  in  malice  thus  compacted 
together — for  the  scales  that  cover  his  body  like  molten 
shields  are  malice,  and  malice  is  in  itself  but  weakness — 
what  must  be  the  strength  of  the  soul  that  is  clothed 
in  virtues  so  compacted  and  united  together  that  no 
impurity  or  imperfection  can  penetrate  between  them  ; 
each  virtue  severally  adding  strength  to  strength  beauty 
to  beauty,  wealth  to  wealth,  and  to  majesty,  dominion 
and  grandeur  ? 

14.  What  a  marvellous  vision  will  be  that  of  the 
bride-soul,  when  it  shall  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the 

*  Job  xli.  6,  7. 


238  A   SPIRITUAL  CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXX.] 

Bridegroom-King,  crowned  with  graces  !  '  How  beau- 
tiful are  thy  steps  in  shoes,  O  prince's  daughter  !  '  * 
The  soul  is  called  a  prince's  daughter  because  of  the 
power  it  has  ;  and  if  the  beauty  of  the  steps  in  shoes 
be  great,  what  must  be  that  of  the  whole  vesture  ?  Not 
only  is  the  beauty  of  the  soul  crowned  with  admirable 
flowers,  but  its  strength  also,  flowing  from  the  harmonious 
order  of  the  flowers,  intertwined  with  the  emeralds  of 
its  innumerable  graces,  is  terrible  :  '  Terrible  as  the  army 
of  a  camp  set  in  array.'  f  For,  as  these  virtues  and 
gifts  of  God  refresh  the  soul  with  their  spiritual  perfume, 
so  also,  when  united  in  it,  do  they,  out  of  their  substance, 
minister  strength.  Thus,  in  the  Canticle,  when  the 
bride  was  weak,  languishing  with  love — because  she  had 
not  been  able  to  bind  together  the  flowers  and  the  emeralds 
with  the  hair  of  her  love — and  anxious  to  strengthen 
herself  by  that  union  of  them,  cries  out  :  '  Stay  me  with 
flowers,  compass  me  about  with  apples ;  because  I 
languish  with  love.'  J  The  flowers  are  the  virtues,  and 
the  apples  are  the  other  graces. 

NOTE 

I  BELIEVE  I  have  now  showai  how  the  intertwining 
of  the   garlands  and  their  lasting   presence   in  the  soul 

*  Cant.   vii.   i.  ^  lb.  vi.  3.  J  lb.  ii.  5. 


[STAN.  XXX.]       OF    THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM        239 

explain  the  divine  union  of  love  which  now  exists  be- 
tween the  soul  and  God.  The  Bridegroom,  as  He  saith 
Himself,  is  '  the  flower  of  the  field  and  the  lily  of  the 
valleys,'  *  and  the  soul's  love  is  the  hair  that  unites  to 
itself  this  flower  of  flowers.  Love  is  the  most  precious 
of  all  things,  because  it  is  the  '  bond  of  perfection,'  as 
the  Apostle  saith, t  and  perfection  is  union  with  God. 
The  soul  is,  as  it  were,  a  sheaf  of  garlands,  for  it  is  the 
subject  of  this  glory,  no  longer  what  it  was  before,  but 
the  very  perfect  flower  of  flowers  in  the  perfection  and 
beauty  of  all ;  for  the  thread  of  love  binds  so  closely 
God  and  the  soul,  and  so  unites  them,  that  it  transforms 
them  and  makes  them  one  by  love  ;  so  that,  though 
in  essence  different,  yet  in  glory  and  appearance  the  soul 
seems  God  and  God  the  soul.  Such  is  this  marvellous 
union,  baffling  all  descript'on. 

2.  We  may  form  some  conception  of  it  from  the  love 
of  David  and  Jonathan,  whose  '  soul  was  knit  with  the 
soul  of  David.'  %  If  the  iove  of  one  man  for  another  can 
be  thus  strong,  so  as  to  knit  two  souls  together,  what 
must  that  love  of  God  be  which  can  knit  the  soul  of  man 
to  God  the  Bridegroom  ?  God  Himself  is  here  the  suitor 
Who  in  the  omnipotence  of  His  unfathomable  love 
absorbs  the  soul  with  greater  violence  and  efficacy  than 
a  torrent  of  fire  a  single  drop  of  the  morning  dew  which 

*  Cant,  ii,   I.  f  Col,  iii.   14.  J   i   Kings  xviii.   i. 


240  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXI.] 

resolves  itself  into  air.  The  hair,  therefore,  which 
accomplishes  such  a  union  must,  of  necessity,  be  most 
strong  and  subtile,  seeing  that  it  penetrates  and  binds 
together  so  effectually  the  soul  and  God.  In  the  present 
stanza  the  soul  declares  the  qualities  of  this  hair. 


STANZA    XXXI 

By  that  one  hair 

Thou  hast  observed  fluttering  on  my  neck, 

And  on  my  neck  regarded, 

Thou  wert  captivated  ; 

And  wounded  by  one  of  my  eyes. 

There  are  three  things  mentioned  here.  The  first  is, 
that  the  love  by  which  the  virtues  are  bound  together 
is  nothing  less  than  a  strong  love  ;  for  in  truth  it  need  be 
so  in  order  to  preserve  them.  The  second  is,  that  God 
is  greatly  taken  by  this  hair  of  love,  seeing  it  to  be  alone 
and  strong.  The  third  is,  that  God  is  deeply  enamoured 
of  the  soul,  beholding  the  purity  and  integrity  of  its 
faith. 

'  By  that  one  hair  Thou  hast  observed  fluttering 
on  my  neck.' 

2.  The  neck  signifies  that  strength  in  which,  it  is 
said,  fluttered  the  hair  of  love,  strong  love,  which  bound 
the  virtues  together.     It  is  not  sufficient  for  the  preser- 


[STAN.  XXXI.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      24I 

vation  of  virtues  that  love  be  alone,  it  must  be  also  strong, 
so  that  no  contrary  vice  may  anywhere  destroy  the 
perfection  of  the  garland  ;  for  the  virtues  so  are  bound 
up  together  in  the  soul  by  the  hair,  that  if  the  thread 
be  once  broken,  all  the  virtues  are  lost  ;  for  where  one 
virtue  is,  all  are,  and  where  one  fails,  all  fail  also.  The 
hair  is  said  to  flutter  on  the  neck,  because  its  love  of  God, 
without  any  hindrance  whatever,  flutters  strongly  and 
lightly  in  the  strength  of  the  soul. 

3.  As  the  air  causes  hair  to  wave  and  flutter  on  the 
neck,  so  the  breath  of  the  Holy  Ghost  stirs  the  strong 
love  that  it  may  fly  upwards  to  God  ;  for  without  this 
divine  mnd,  which  excites  the  powers  of  the  soul  to  the 
practice  of  divine  love,  all  the  virtues  the  soul  may 
possess  become  ineffectual  and  fruitless.  The  Beloved 
observed  the  hair  fluttering  on  the  neck — that  is.  He 
considered  it  with  particular  attention  and  regard  ;  be- 
cause strong  love  is  a  great  attraction  for  the  eyes  of  God. 

'  And  on  my  neck  regarded.' 

4,  This  shows  us  that  God  not  only  esteems  this  love, 

seeing  it  alone,  but  also  loves  it,  seeing  it  strong  ;   for  to 

say  that  God  regards  is  to  say  that  He  loves,  and  to  say 

that  He  observes  is  to  say  that  He  esteems  what  He 

observes.    The  word  '  neck  '  is  repeated  in  this  line,  because 

it,  being  strong,  is  the.  cause  why  God  loves  it  so  much 

16 


242  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXI.] 

It  is  as  if  the  soul  said,  '  Thou  hast  loved  it,  seeing  it 
strong  without  weakness  or  fear,  and  without  any  other 
love,  and  flying  upwards  swiftly  and  fervently.' 

5.  Until  now  God  had  not  looked  upon  this  hair 
so  as  to  be  captivated  by  it,  because  He  had  not  seen 
it  alone,  separate  from  the  others,  withdrawn  from 
other  loves,  feelings,  and  affections,  which  hindered  it 
from  fluttering  alone  on  the  neck  of  strength.  After- 
wards, however,  when  mortifications  and  trials, 
temptations  and  penance  had  detached  it,  and  made  it 
strong,  so  that  nothing  whatever  could  break  it,  then 
God  beholds  it,  and  is  taken  by  it,  and  binds  the  flowers 
of  the  garlands  with  it  ;  for  it  is  now  so  strong  that  it 
can  keep  the  virtues  united  together  in  the  soul. 

6.  But  what  these  temptations  and  trials  are,  how 
they  come,  and  how  far  they  reach,  that  the  soul  may 
attain  to  that  strength  of  love  in  which  God  unites  it 
to  Himself,  I  have  described  in  the  '  Dark  Night,'  * 
and  in  the  explanation  of  the  four  stanzas  f  which  begin 
with  the  words,  '  O  living  flame  of  love  !  '  The  soul 
having  passed  through  these  trials  has  reached  a  degree 
of  love  so  high  that  it  has  merited  the  divine  union. 

*  Thou  wert   captivated.' 

7.  O  joyful  wonder  !     God  captive  to  a  hair.     The 

*  '  Dark  Night,'  Bk.  i,  ch,  xiv,         f   Stanza  ii.  §  26  sqq. 


[STAN.  XXXI.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      243 

reason  of  this  capture  so  precious  is  that  God  was  pleased 
to  observe  the  fluttering  of  the  hair  on  the  soul's  neck  ; 
for  where  God  regards  He  loves.  If  He  in  His  grace 
and  mercy  had  not  first  looked  upon  us  and  loved  us,* 
as  St.  John  saith,  and  humbled  Himself,  He  never  could 
have  been  taken  by  the  fluttering  of  the  hair  of  our 
miserable  love.  His  flight  is  not  so  low  as  that  our  love 
could  lay  hold  of  the  divine  bird,  attract  His  attention, 
and  fly  so  high  with  a  strength  worthy  of  His  regard, 
if  He  had  not  first  looked  upon  us.  He,  however,  is 
taken  by  the  fluttering  of  the  hair  ;  He  makes  it  worthy 
and  pleasing  to  Himself,  and  then  is  captivated  by  it. 
*  Thou  hast  seen  it  on  my  neck,  Thou  wert  captivated 
by  it.'  This  renders  it  credible  that  a  bird  which  flies 
low  may  capture  the  royal  eagle  in  its  flight,  if  the 
eagle  should  fly  so  low  and  be  taken  by  it  willingly. 

'  And  wounded  by  one  of  my  eyes.' 

8.  The  eye  is  faith.  The  soul  speaks  of  but  one,  and 
that  this  has  wounded  the  Beloved.  If  the  faith  and 
trust  of  the  soul  in  God  were  not  one,  without  admixture 
of  other  considerations,  God  never  could  have  been 
wounded  by  love.  Thus  the  eye  that  wounds,  and  the 
hair  that  binds,  must  be  one.  So  strong  is  the  love  of 
the  Bridegroom  for  the  bride,  because  of  her  simple 
*  I  St.  John  iv.  10. 


244  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXI.] 

faith,  that,  if  the  hair  of  her  love  binds  Him,  the  eye  of 
her  faith  imprisons  Him  so  closely  as  to  wound  Him 
through  that  most  tender  affection  He  bears  her,  which 
is  to  the  bride  a  further  progress  in  His  love. 

9.  The  Bridegroom  Himself  speaks  in  the  Canticle  of 
the  hair  and  the  eyes,  saying  to  the  bride,  '  Thou  hast 
wounded  My  heart,  My  sister,  My  bride ;  thou  hast 
wounded  My  heart  with  one  of  thy  eyes,  and  with  one 
hair  of  thy  neck.'  *  He  says  twice  that  His  heart  is 
wounded,  that  is,  with  the  eye  and  the  hair,  and  there- 
fore the  soul  in  this  stanza  speaks  of  them  both,  because 
they  signify  its  union  wdth  God  in  the  understanding 
and  the  will ;  for  the  understanding  is  subdued  by  faith, 
signified  by  the  eye,  and  the  will  by  love.  Here  the 
soul  exults  in  this  union,  and  gives  thanks  to  the  Bride- 
groom for  it,  it  being  His  gift  ;  accounting  it  a  great 
matter  that  He  has  been  pleased  to  requite  its  love,  and 
to  become  captive  to  it.  We  may  also  observe  here  the 
joy,  happiness,  and  delight  of  the  soul  with  its  prisoner, 
having  been  for  a  long  time  His  prisoner,  enamoured 
of  Him. 

NOTE 

Great  is  the  power  and  courage  of  love,  for  God  is  its 
prisoner.     Blessed  is  the  soul  that  loves,  for  it  has  made 

*  Cant.  iv.  9. 


[STAN.  XXXII.]     OF    THE    SOUL    AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     245 

a  captive  of  God  who  obeys  its  good  pleasure.  Such  is 
the  nature  of  love  that  it  makes  those  who  love  do  what 
is  asked  of  them,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  without  love 
the  utmost  efforts  will  be  fruitless,  but  one  hair  will  bind 
those  that  love.  The  soul,  knowing  this,  and  conscious 
of  blessings  beyond  its  merits,  in  being  raised  up  to  so 
high  a  degree  of  love,  through  the  rich  endowments  of 
graces  and  virtues,  attributes  all  to  the  Beloved, 
saying  : 


STANZA    XXXII 

When  Thou  didst  regard  me, 

Thine  eyes  imprinted  in  me  Thy  grace  : 

For  this  didst  Thou  love  me  again. 

And  thereby  mine  eyes  did  merit. 

To  adore  what  in  Thee  they  saw. 

It  is  the  nature  of  perfect  love  to  seek  or  accept  nothing 
for  itself,  to  attribute  nothing  to  itself,  but  to  refer  all 
to  the  Beloved.  If  this  be  true  of  earthly  love,  how 
much  more  so  of  the  love  of  God,  the  reason  of  which 
is  so  constraining.  In  the  two  foregoing  stanzas  the 
bride  seemed  to  attribute  something  to  herself  ;  for  she 
said  that  she  would  make  garlands  with  her  Beloved, 
and  bind  them  with  a  hair  of  her  head  ;  that  is  a  great 
work,  and  of  no  slight  importance  and  worth  :  after- 
wards she  said  that  she  exulted   in  having    captivated 


246  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE         [STAN.  XXXII.] 

Him  by  a  hair,  and  wounded  Him  with  one  of  her  eyes. 
All  this  seems  as  if  she  attributed  great  merits  to  herself. 
Now,  however,  she  explains  her  meaning,  and  removes 
the  wrong  impression  with  great  care  and  fear,  lest  any 
merit  should  be  attributed  to  herself,  and  therefore  less 
to  God  than  His  due,  and  less  also  than  she  desired. 
She  now  refers  all  to  Him,  and  at  the  same  time  gives 
Him  thanks,  saying  that  the  cause  of  His  being  the 
capt>e  of  the  hair  of  her  love,  and  of  His  being  wounded 
by  the  eye  of  her  faith,  was  His  mercy  in  looking  lovingly 
upon  her,  thereby  rendering  her  lovely  and  pleasing  in 
His  sight  ;  and  that  the  loveliness  and  worth  she  received 
from  Him  merited  His  love,  and  made  her  worthy  to 
adore  her  Beloved,  and  to  bring  forth  good  works  worthy 
of  His  love  and  favour. 

'  When  Thou  didst  regard  me.' 

2.  That  is,  with  loving  affection,  for  I  have  already 
said,  that  where  God  regards  there  He  loves. 

'  Thine  eyes  imprinted  in  me  Thy  grace.' 

3.  The  eyes  of  the  Bridegroom  signify  here  His 
merciful  divinity,  which,  mercifully  inclined  to  the  soul, 
imprints  or  infuses  in  it  the  love  and  grace  by  which 
He  makes  it  beautiful,  and  so  elevates  it  that  He 
makes    it   the    partaker    of    His    divinity.      When    the 


[STAN.  XXXII.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      247 

soul  sees   to  what  height  of  dignity  God  has  raised  it, 
it  says  : 

'  For  this  didst  Thou  love  me  again.' 

4.  To  love  again  is  to  love  much  ;  it  is  more  than 
simple  love,  it  is  a  twofold  love,  and  for  two  reasons. 
Here  the  soul  explains  the  two  motives  of  the  Bride- 
groom's love  ;  He  not  only  loved  it  because  captivated 
by  the  hair,  but  He  loved  it  again,  because  He  was 
wounded  with  one  of  its  eyes.  The  reason  why  He  loved 
it  so  deeply  is  that  He  would,  when  He  looked  upon  it, 
give  it  the  grace  to  please  Him,  endowing  it  with  the 
hair  of  love,  and  animating  with  His  charity  the  faith 
of  the  eye.     And  therefore  the  soul  saith  : 

'  For  this  didst  Thou  love  me  again.' 

5.  To  say  that  God  shows  favour  to  the  soul  is  to 
say  that  He  renders  it  worthy  and  capable  of  His  love. 
It  is  therefore  as  if  the  soul  said,  '  Having  shown  Thy 
favour  to  me,  worthy  pledges  of  Thy  love.  Thou  hast 
therefore  loved  me  again  '  ;  that  is,  '  Thou  hast  given  me 
grace  upon  grace  '  ;  or,  in  the  words  of  St.  John,  '  grace 
for  grace  '  ;  *  grace  for  the  grace  He  has  given,  that  is 
more  grace,  for  without  grace  we  cannot  merit  His 
grace. 

*  St.  John  i.  16. 


248  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXII.] 

6.  If  we  could  clearly  understand  this  truth,  we  must 
keep  in  mind  that,  as  God  loves  nothing  beside  Himself, 
so  loves  He  nothing  more  than  Himself,  because  He 
loves  all  things  with  reference  to  Himself.  Thus  love 
is  the  final  cause,  and  God  loves  nothing  for  what  it  is 
in  itself.  Consequently,  when  we  say  that  God  loves 
such  a  soul,  we  say,  in  effect,  that  He  brings  it  in  a  manner 
to  Himself,  making  it  His  equal,  and  thus  it  is  He  loves 
that  soul  in  Himself  with  that  very  love  with  which  He 
loves  Himself.  Every  good  work,  therefore,  of  the  soul 
in  God  is  meritorious  of  God's  love,  because  the  soul 
in  His  favour,  thus  exalted,  merits  God  Himself  in  every 
act. 

'  And  thereby  mine  eyes  did  merit.' 

7.  That  is,  '  By  the  grace  and  favour  which  the  eyes 
of  Thy  compassion  have  wrought,  when  Thou  didst  look 
upon  me,  rendering  me  pleasing  in  Thy  sight  and  worthy 
of  Thy  regard.' 

*  To  adore  what  in  Thee  they  saw.' 

8.  That  is  :  '  The  powers  of  my  soul,  O  my  Bridegroom, 
the  eyes  by  which  I  can  see  Thee,  although  once  fallen 
and  miserable  in  the  vileness  of  their  mean  occupations, 
have  merited  to  look  upon  Thee.'  To  look  upon  God  is  to 
do  good  works  in  His  grace.     Thus  the  powers  of  the  soul 


[STAN.  XXXII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     249 

merit  in  adoring  because  they  adore  in  the  grace  of  God, 
in  which  every  act  is  meritorious.  Enhghtened  and 
exalted  by  grace,  they  adored  what  in  Him  they  saw,  and 
what  they  saw  not  before,  because  of  their  bhndness 
and  meanness.  What,  then,  have  they  now  seen  ?  The 
greatness  of  His  power.  His  overflowing  sweetness,  in- 
finite goodness,  love,  and  compassion,  innumerable 
benefits  received  at  His  hands,  as  well  now  when  so  near 
Him  as  before  when  far  away.  The  eyes  of  the  soul 
now  merit  to  adore,  and  by  adoring  merit,  for  they  are 
beautiful  and  pleasing  to  the  Bridegroom.  Before  they 
were  unworthy,  not  only  to  adore  or  behold  Him,  but 
even  to  look  upon  Him  at  all  :  great  indeed  is  the 
stupidity  and  blindness  of  a  soul  without  the  grace  of 
God. 

9.  It  is  a  melancholy  thing  to  see  how  far  a  soul 
departs  from  its  duty  when  it  is  not  enlightened  by  the 
love  of  God.  For  being  bound  to  acknowledge  these 
and  other  innumerable  favours  which  it  has  every 
moment  received  at  His  hands,  temporal  as  well  as 
spiritual,  and  to  worship  and  serve  Him  unceasingly 
with  all  its  faculties,  it  not  only  does  not  do  so, 
but  is  unworthy  even  to  think  of  Him  ;  nor  does 
it  make  any  account  of  Him  whatever.  Such  is  the 
misery  of  those  who  are  living,  or  rather  who  are 
dead,  in  sin. 


2  50  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXII.] 

NOTE 

For  the  better  understanding  of  this  and  of  what  follows, 
we  must  keep  in  mind  that  the  regard  of  God  benefits 
the  soul  in  four  ways  :  it  cleanses,  adorns,  enriches,  and 
enlightens  it,  as  the  sun,  when  it  shines,  dries,  warms, 
beautifies,  and  brightens  the  earth.  When  God  has 
visited  the  soul  in  the  three  latter  ways,  whereby  He 
renders  it  pleasing  to  Himself,  He  remembers  its 
former  uncleanness  and  sin  no  more  :  as  it  is  written, 
'  All  the  iniquities  that  he  hath  wrought,  I  will  not 
remember.'  * 

God  having  once  done  away  with  our  sin  and  unclean- 
ness, He  will  look  upon  them  no  more  ;  nor  will  He 
withhold  His  mercy  because  of  them,  for  He  never 
punishes  twice  for  the  same  sin,  according  to  the  words 
of  the  prophet  :  '  There  shall  not  rise  a  double  afflic- 
tion.' t 

Still,  though  God  forgets  the  sin  He  has  once  forgiven, 
we  are  not  for  that  reason  to  forget  it  ourselves  ;  for  the 
Wise  Man  saith,  '  Be  not  without  fear  about  sin  for- 
given.' X  There  are  three  reasons  for  this.  We  should 
always  remember  our  sin,  that  we  may  not  presume, 
that  we  may  have  a  subject  of  perpetual  thanksgiving, 
and  because   it  serves   to  give  us  more  confidence   that 

*  Ezech.  xviii.  22.  f  Nahum  i.  9.  J  Ecclus.  v.  5, 


[STAN.  XXXII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     25I 

we  shall  receive  greater  favours  ;  for  if,  when  we 
were  in  sin,  God  showed  Himself  unto  us  so  merciful 
and  forgiving,  how  much  greater  mercies  may  we 
not  hope  for  when  we  are  clean  from  sin,  and  in 
His  love  ? 

The  soul,  therefore,  calling  to  mind  all  the  mercies  it 
has  received,  and  seeing  itself  united  to  the  Bridegroom 
in  such  dignity,  rejoices  greatly  with  joy,  thanksgiving, 
and  love.  In  this  it  is  helped  exceedingly  by  the  recol- 
lection of  its  former  condition,  which  was  so  mean  and 
filthy  that  it  not  only  did  not  deserve  that  God  should 
look  upon  it,  but  was  unworthy  that  He  should  even 
utter  its  name,  as  He  saith  by  the  mouth  of  the  prophet 
David  :  '  Nor  will  I  be  mindful  of  their  names  by  My 
lips.'  *  Thus  the  soul,  seeing  that  there  was,  and  that 
there  can  be,  nothing  in  itself  to  attract  the  eyes  of  God, 
but  that  all  comes  from  Him  of  pure  grace  and  good- 
will, attributes  its  misery  to  itself,  and  all  the  blessings 
it  enjoys  to  the  Beloved  ;  and  seeing  further  that  be- 
cause of  these  blessings  it  can  merit  now  what  it 
could  not  merit  before,  it  becomes  bold  with  God,  and 
prays  for  the  divine  spiritual  union,  wherein  its  mercies 
are  multiplied.  This  is  the  subject  of  the  following 
stanza  : 

*    Ps.    XV.    4. 


252  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIII.] 

STANZA    XXXIII 

Despise  me  not, 

For  if  I  was  swarthy  once, 

Thoii  canst  regard  me  now  ; 

Since  Thou  hast  regarded  me, 

Grace  a)id  beauty  hast  Thou  given  me. 

The  soul  now  is  becoming  bold,  and  respects  itself, 
because  of  the  gifts  and  endowments  which  the  Beloved 
has  bestowed  upon  it.  It  recognises  that  these  things, 
while  itself  is  worthless  and  undeserving,  are  at  least 
means  of  merit,  and  consequently  it  ventures  to  say  to 
the  Beloved,  '  Do  not  disregard  me  now,  or  despise  me  '  ; 
for  if  before  it  deserved  contempt  because  of  the  filthi- 
ness  of  its  sin,  and  the  meanness  of  its  nature,  now  that 
He  has  once  looked  upon  it,  and  thereby  adorned  it  with 
grace  and  beauty.  He  may  well  look  upon  it  a  second 
time  and  increase  its  grace  and  beauty.  That  He  has 
once  done  so,  when  the  soul  deserved  it  not,  and  had 
no  attractions  for  Him,  is  reason  enough  why  He  should 
do  so  again  and  again. 

'  Despise  me  not.' 

2.  The  soul  does  not  say  this  because  it  desires  in 
any  way  to  be  esteemed — for  contempt  and  insult  are  of 
great  price,  and  occasions  of  joy  to  the  soul  that  truly 
loves  God — but  because  it  acknowledges  that  in  itself 


[^TAN.   XXXIII.]     OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    253 

it  merits  nothing  else,  were  it  not  for  the  gifts  and  graces 
it  has  received  from  God,  as  it  appears  from  the  words 
that  follow. 

'  For  if  I  was  swarthy  once.' 

3.  'If,  before  Thou  didst  graciously  look  upon  me 
Thou  didst  find  me  in  my  filthiness,  black  with  imper- 
fections and  sins,  and  naturally  mean  and  vile,' 

'  Thou  canst  regard  me  now  ;    since  Thou  hast  regarded 
me.' 

4.  '  After  once  looking  upon  me,  and  taking  away  my 
swarthy  complexion,  defiled  by  sin  and  disagreeable  to 
look  upon,  when  Thou  didst  render  me  lovely  for  the 
first  time,  Thou  mayest  well  look  upon  me  now^ — that 
is,  now  I  may  be  looked  on  and  deserve  to  be  regarded, 
and  thereby  to  receive  further  favours  at  Thy  hands. 
For  Thine  eyes,  when  they  first  looked  upon  me,  did 
not  only  take  away  my  swarthy  complexion,  but  ren- 
dered me  also  worthy  of  Thy  regard  ;  for  in  Thy  look 
of  love, — 

'  Grace  and  beauty  hast  Thou  given  me.' 

5.  The  two  preceding  fines  are  a  commentary  on 
the  words  of  St.   John,   '  grace  for  grace,'  *  for  when 

*  St.  John  i.  16. 


254  ^   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XXXIII.] 

God  beholds  a  soul  that  is  lovely  in  His  eyes  He  is 
moved  to  bestow  more  grace  upon  it  because  He  dwells 
well-pleased  within  it.  Moses  knew  this,  and  prayed 
for  further  grace  :  he  would,  as  it  were,  constrain  God 
to  grant  it  because  he  had  already  received  so  much, 
'  Thou  hast  said  :  I  know  thee  by  name,  and  thou  hast 
found  favour  in  My  sight  :  if  therefore  I  have  found 
favour  in  Thy  sight,  show  me  Thy  face,  that  I  may  know 
Thee,  and  may  find  grace  before  Thine  eyes.'  * 

6,  Now  a  soul  which  in  the  eyes  of  God  is  thus  exalted 
in  grace,  honourable  and  lovely,  is  for  that  reason  an 
object  of  His  unutterable  love.  If  He  loved  that  soul 
before  it  was  in  a  state  of  grace,  for  His  own  sake,  He 
loves  it  now,  when  in  a  state  of  grace,  not  only  for  His 
own  sake,  but  also  for  itself.  Thus  enamoured  of  its 
beauty,  through  its  affections  and  good  works,  now  that 
it  is  never  without  them,  He  bestows  upon  it  continually 
further  grace  and  love,  and  the  more  honourable  and 
exalted  He  renders  that  soul,  the  more  is  He  captivated 
by  it,  and  the  greater  His  love  for  it. 

7.  God  Himself  sets  this  truth  before  us,  saying  to 
His  people,  by  the  mouth  of  the  prophet,  '  since  thou 
becamest  honourable  in  My  eyes,  and  glorious,  I  have 
loved  thee.'  f  That  is,  '  Since  I  have  cast  Mine  eyes 
upon  thee,  and  thereby  showed  thee  favour,  and  made 

*  Exod.  xxxiii.   12,   13.  t  •'^sa.  xliii.  4. 


[STAN.   XXXIII.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     255 

thee  glorious  and  honourable  in  My  sight,  thou  hast 
merited  other  and  further  favours  '  ;  for  to  say  that 
God  loves,  is  to  say  that  He  mutiplies  His  grace.  The 
bride  in  the  Canticle  speaks  to  the  same  effect,  saying, 
'  I  am  black,  but  beautiful,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,'  * 
and  the  Church  adds,|  saying,  '  Therefore  hath  the 
King  loved  me,  and  brought  me  into  His  secret  chamber.' 
This  is  as  much  as  saying  :  '  O  ye  souls  who  have  no  know- 
ledge nor  understanding  of  these  favours,  marvel  not 
that  the  heavenly  King  has  shown  such  mercy  unto  me 
as  to  plunge  me  in  the  depths  of  His  love,  for,  though  I 
am  swarthy,  He  has  so  regarded  me,  after  once  looking 
upon  me,  that  He  could  not  be  satisfied  without  be- 
trothing me  to  Himself,  and  calling  me  into  the  inner 
chamber  of  His  love.' 

8.  Who  can  measure  the  greatness  of  the  soul's 
exaltation  when  God  is  pleased  with  it  ?  No  language, 
no  imagination  is  sufficient  for  this  ;  for  in  truth  God 
doeth  this  as  God,  to  show  that  it  is  He  who  does  it. 
The  dealings  of  God  with  such  a  soul  may  in  some  degree 
be  understood  ;  but  only  in  this  way,  namely,  that  He 
gives  more  to  him  who  has  more,  and  that  His  gifts  are 
multiplied  in  proportion  to  the  previous  endowments  of 
the  soul.  This  is  what  He  teaches  us  Himself  in  the 
Gospel,  saying  :    '  He  that  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given, 

*  Cant.  i.  4.  f  Antiphon  in  Vesper  B.M.V. 


256  A  SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIII.] 

and  he  shall  abound  :    but  he  that  hath  not,  from  him 
shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath.'  * 

9.  Thus  the  talent  of  that  servant,  not  then  in  favour 
with  his  lord,  was  taken  from  him  and  given  to  another 
who  had  gained  others,  so  that  the  latter  might  have  all, 
together  with  the  favour  of  his  lord.f  God  heaps  the 
noblest  and  the  greatest  favours  of  His  house,  which  is 
the  Church  militant  as  well  as  the  Church  triumphant, 
upon  him  who  is  most  His  friend,  ordaining  it  thus  for 
His  greater  honour  and  glory,  as  a  great  light  absorbs 
many  Httle  lights.  This  is  the  spiritual  sense  of  those 
words,  already  cited, J  the  prophet  Isaias  addressed  to 
the  people  of  Israel :  '  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel,  thy  Saviour  :  I  have  given  Egypt  for  thy 
atonement  and  Saba  for  thee.  I  will  give  men  for  thee, 
and  people  for  thy  life.'  § 

10.  Well  mayest  Thou  then,  O  God,  gaze  upon  and 
prize  that  soul  which  Thou  regardest,  for  Thou  hast 
made  it  precious  by  looking  upon  it,  and  given  it  graces 
which  in  Thy  sight  are  precious,  and  by  which  Thou 
art  captivated.  That  soul,  therefore,  deserves  that 
Thou  shouldest  regard  it  not  once  only,  but  often,  seeing 
that  Thou  hast  once  looked  upon  it ;  for  so  is  it  written 
in  the  book  of  Esther  by  the  Holy  Ghost :  '  This  honour 
is  he  worthy  of,  whom  the  king  hath  a  mind  to  honour.' || 

*  Matt.  xiii.  12.     j  lb.  xxv.  28.     J  §  7.     §  Tsa.  xliii.  3.  ||  Esth.  vi.  11. 


STAN.    XXXIII.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM    257 


NOTE. 

The  gifts  of  love  which  the  Bridegroom  bestows  on 
the  soul  in  this  state  are  inestimable  ;  the  praises  and 
endearing  expressions  of  divine  love  which  pass  so  fre- 
quently between  them  are  beyond  all  utterance.  The 
soul  is  occupied  in  praising  Him,  and  in  giving  Him 
thanks  ;  and  He  in  exalting,  praising,  and  thanking  the 
soul,  as  we  see  in  the  Canticle,  where  He  thus  speaks  to 
the  bride  :  '  Behold,  thou  art  fair,  O  My  love,  behold, 
thou  art  fair  ;  thy  eyes  are  as  those  of  doves.'  The 
bride  replies  :  '  Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved,  and 
comely.'*  These,  and  other  like  expressions,  are  addressed 
by  them  each  to  the  other. 

2.  In  the  previous  stanza  the  soul  despised  itself,  and 
said  it  was  swarthy  and  unclean,  praising  Him  for  His 
beauty  and  grace.  Who,  by  looking  upon  the  soul,  ren- 
dered it  gracious  and  beautiful.  He,  Whose  way  it  is 
to  exalt  the  humble,  fixing  His  eyes  upon  the  soul,  as 
He  was  entreated  to  do,  praises  it  in  the  following 
stanza.  He  does  not  call  it  swarthy,  as  the  soul  calls 
itself,  but  He  addresses  it  as  His  white  dove,  praising 
it  for  its  good  dispositions,  those  of  a  dove  and  a 
turtle-dove. 

*  Cant.  iv.   i,  vi.  3. 

17 


258  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIV.] 

STANZA    XXXIV 

THE    BRIDEGROOM 

The  little  white  dove 

Has  returned  to  the  ark  with  the  hough  ; 

And  now  the  turtle-dove 

Its  desired  mate 

On  the  green  banks  has  found. 

It  is  the  Bridegroom  Himself  who  now  speaks.  He 
celebrates  the  purity  of  the  soul  in  its  present  state,  the 
rich  rewards  it  has  gained,  in  having  prepared  itself,  and 
laboured  to  come  to  Him.  He  also  speaks  of  its  blessed- 
ness in  having  found  the  Bridegroom  in  this  union,  and 
of  the  fulfilment  of  all.  its  desires,  the  delight  and  joy  it 
has  in  Him  now  that  all  the  trials  of  life  and  time  are 
over. 

'  The  little  white  dove.' 

2.  He  calls  the  soul,  on  account  of  its  whiteness  and 
purity — effects  of  the  grace  it  has  received  at  the  hands 
of  God— a  dove,  '  the  little  white  dove,'  for  this  is  the 
term  He  applies  to  it  in  the  Canticle,  to  mark  its  sim- 
plicity, its  natural  gentleness,  and  its  loving  contempla- 
tion. The  dove  is  not  only  simple,  and  gentle  without 
gall,  but  its  eyes  are  also  clear,  full  of  love.  The  Bride- 
groom, therefore,  to  point  out  in  it  this  character  of 
loving  contemplation,  wherein  it  looks  upon  God,  says 


[STAN.  XXXIV.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     259 

of  it  that  its  eyes  are  those  of  a  dove  :    '  Thy  eyes  are 
dove's  eyes.'  * 

'  Has  returned  to  the  ark  with  the  bough.' 

3.     Here  the  Bridegroom  compares  the   soul  to  the 
dove  of  Noe's  ark,  the  going  and  returning  of  which  is  a 
figure  of  what  befalls  the  soul.     For  as  the  dove  went 
forth  from  the  ark,  and  returned  because  it  found  no 
rest  for  its  feet  on  account  of  the  waters  of  the  deluge, 
until  the  time  when  it  returned  with  the  olive  branch  in 
its  mouth— a  sign  of  the  mercy  of  God  in  drying  the 
waters  which  had  covered  the  earth — so  the  soul  went 
forth  at  its  creation  out  of  the  ark  of  God's  omnipotence, 
and  having  traversed  the  deluge  of  its  sins  and  imperfec- 
tions, and  finding  no  rest  for  its  desires,  flew  and  returned 
on  the  air  of  the  longings  of  its  love  to  the  ark  of  its 
Creator's  bosom  ;    but  it  only  effected  an  entrance  when 
God  had  dried  the  waters  of  its  imperfections.     Then  it 
returned  with  the  olive  branch,  that  is,  the  victory  over 
all  things  by  His  merciful  compassion,  to  this  blessed 
and  perfect  recollection  in  the  bosom  of  the  Beloved,  not 
only  triumphant  over  all  its  enemies,  but  also  rewarded 
for  its  merits  ;    for  both  the  one  and  the  other  are  sym- 
bolised by  the  olive  bough.     Thus  the  dove-soul  returns 
to  the  ark  of  God  not  only  white  and  pure  as  it  went 
*  Cant.  iv.  i. 


26o  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXIV.] 

forth  when  He  created  it,  but  with  the  oHve  branch  of 
reward  and  peace  obtained  by  the  conquest  of  itself. 

'  And  now  the  turtle-dove  its  desired  mate 
on  the  green  banks  has  found.' 

4.  The  Bridegroom  calls  the  soul  the  turtle-dove, 
because  when  it  is  seeking  after  the  Beloved  it  is  like  the 
turtle-dove  when  it  cannot  find  its  desired  mate.  It  is 
said  of  the  turtle-dove,  when  it  cannot  find  its  mate, 
that  it  sitteth  not  on  the  green  boughs,  nor  drinketh  of 
the  cool  refreshing  waters,  nor  retireth  to  the  shade,  nor 
mingleth  with  companions  ;  but  when  it  finds  its  mate 
then  it  doeth  all  this. 

5.  Such,  too,  is  the  condition  of  the  soul,  and 
necessarily,  if  it  is  to  attain  to  union  with  the  Bride- 
groom. The  soul's  love  and  anxiety  must  be  such  that 
it  cannot  rest  on  the  green  boughs  of  any  joy,  nor  drink 
of  the  waters  of  this  world's  honour  and  glory,  nor 
recreate  itself  with  any  temporal  consolation,  nor  shelter 
itself  in  the  shade  of  created  help  and  protection  :  it  must 
repose  nowhere,  it  must  avoid  the  society  of  all  its  in- 
clinations, mourn  in  its  loneliness,  until  it  shall  find  the 
Bridegroom  to  its  perfect  contentment. 

6.  And  because  the  soul,  before  it  attained  to  this 
estate,  sought  the  Beloved  in  great  love,  and  was  satisfied 
with  nothing  short  of  Him,  the  Bridegroom  here  speaks 


[STAN.  XXXIV.]     OF   THE   SOUL   AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM    261 

of  the  end  of  its  labours,  and  the  fulfilment  of  its  desires, 
saying  :  '  Now  the  turtle-dove  its  desired  mate  on  the 
green  banks  has  found.'  That  is  :  Now  the  bride-soul 
sits  on  the  green  bough,  rejoicing  in  her  Beloved,  drinks 
of  the  clear  waters  of  the  highest  contemplation  and  of 
the  wisdom  of  God  ;  is  refreshed  by  the  consolations  it 
finds  in  Him,  and  is  also  sheltered  under  the  shadow  of 
His  favour  and  protection,  which  she  had  so  earnestly 
desired.  There  is  she  deliciously  and  divinely  com- 
forted, refreshed,  and  nourished,  as  she  saith  in  the 
Canticle :  '  I  sat  down  under  His  shadow  Whom  I 
desired,  and  His  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  palate.'  * 

NOTE 

The  Bridegroom  proceeds  to  speak  of  the  satisfaction 
which  He  derives  from  the  happiness  which  the  bride  has 
found  in  that  solitude  wherein  she  desired  to  live — a 
stable  peace  and  unchangeable  good.  For  when  the 
bride  is  confirmed  in  the  tranquillity  of  her  soul  and 
solitary  love  of  the  Bridegroom,  she  reposes  so  sweetly 
in  the  love  of  God,  and  God  also  in  her,  that  she  requires 
no  other  means  or  masters  to  guide  her  in  the  way  of 
God  ;  for  God  Himself  is  now  her  light  and  guide,  ful- 
filling in  her  what  He  promised  by  the  mouth  of  Oseas, 

*  Cant.  ii.  3. 


262  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXV.] 

saying  :  '  I  will  lead  her  into  the  wilderness,  and  I  will 
speak  to  her  heart.'  *  That  is,  it  is  in  solitude  that  He 
communicates  Himself,  and  unites  Himself,  to  the  soul, 
for  to  speak  to  the  heart  is  to  satisfy  the  heart,  and  no 
heart  can  be  satisfied  with  less  than  God.  And  so  the 
Bridegroom  says  : 


STANZA    XXXV 

In  solitude  she  lived, 

And  in  solitude  built  her  nest ; 

And  in  solitude,  alone 

Hath  the  Beloved  guided  her. 

In  solitude  also  ivounded  with  love. 

In  this  stanza  the  Bridegroom  is  doing  two  things  :  one 
is.  He  is  praising  the  solitude  in  which  the  soul  once 
lived,  for  it  was  the  means  whereby  it  found  the  Beloved, 
and  rejoiced  in  Him,  away  from  all  its  former  anxieties 
and  troubles.  For,  as  the  soul  abode  in  solitude, 
abandoning  all  created  help  and  consolation,  in  order  to 
obtain  the  fellowship  and  union  of  the  Beloved,  it 
deserved  thereby  possession  of  the  peace  of  solitude  in 
the  Beloved,  in  Whom  it  reposes  alone,  undisturbed  by 
any  anxieties. 

2.     The  second  is  this  :   the  Bridegroom  is  saying  that, 
inasmuch  as  the  soul  has  desired  to  be  alone,  far  away, 

*  Os.  ii.   14. 


[STAN.  XXXV.]      OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     263 

for  His  sake,  from  all  created  things,  He  has  been  en- 
amoured of  it  because  of  its  loneliness,  has  taken  care 
of  it,  held  it  in  His  arms,  fed  it  with  all  good  things,  and 
guided  it  to  the  deep  things  of  God.  He  does  not  merely 
say  that  He  is  now  the  soul's  guide,  but  that  He  is  its 
only  guide,  without  any  intermediate  help,  either  of 
angels  or  of  men,  either  of  forms  or  of  figures  ;  for  the 
soul  in  this  solitude  has  attained  to  true  liberty  of  spirit, 
and  is  wholly  detached  from  all  subordinate  means. 

*  In  solitude  she  lived.' 

3.  The  turtle-dove,  that  is,  the  soul,  lived  in  solitude 
before  she  found  the  Beloved  in  this  state  of  union  ;  for 
the  soul  that  longs  after  God  derives  no  consolation  from 
any  other  companionship, — yea,  until  it  finds  Him 
everything  does  but  increase  its  solitude. 

'  And  in  solitude  built  her  nest.' 

4.  The  previous  sohtude  of  the  soul  was  its  voluntary 
privation  of  all  the  comforts  of  this  world,  for  the  sake 
of  the  Bridegroom — as  in  the  instance  of  the  turtle- 
dove— its  striving  after  perfection,  and  acquiring  that 
perfect  solitude  wherein  it  attains  to  union  with  the 
Word,  and  in  consequence  to  complete  refreshment  and 
repose.  This  is  what  is  meant  by  '  nest  ' ;  and  the 
words  of  the  stanza  may  be  thus  explained  :    '  In  that 


264  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN,  XXXV.] 

solitude,  wherein  the  bride  formerly  lived,  tried  by 
afflictions  and  troubles,  because  she  was  not  perfect, 
there,  in  that  solitude,  hath  she  found  refreshment  and 
rest,  because  she  has  found  perfect  rest  in  God.'  This, 
too,  is  the  spiritual  sense  of  these  words  of  the  Psalmist  : 
'  The  sparrow  hath  found  herself  a  house,  and  the  turtle 
a  nest  for  herself,  where  she  may  lay  her  young  ones  ;  * 
that  is,  a  sure  stay  in  God,  in  Whom  all  the  desires  and 
powers  of  the  soul  are  satisfied.' 

'  And  in  solitude,' 

5.  In  the  solitude  of  perfect  detachment  from  all 
things,  wherein  it  lives  alone  with  God — there  He  guides 
it,  moves  it,  and  elevates  it  to  divine  things.  He  guides 
the  understanding  in  the  perception  of  divine  things, 
because  it  is  now  detached  from  all  strange  and  contrary 
knowledge,  and  is  alone.  He  moves  the  will  freely  to 
love  Himself,  because  it  is  now  alone,  disencumbered 
from  all  other  affections.  He  fills  the  memory  with 
divine  knowledge,  because  that  also  is  now  alone,  emptied 
of  all  imaginations  and  fancies.  For  the  instant  the 
soul  clears  and  empties  its  faculties  of  all  earthly  objects, 
and  from  attachments  to  higher  things,  keeping  them  in 
solitude,  God  immediately  fills  them  with  the  invisible 
and  divine  ;   it  being  God  Himself  Who  guides  it  in  this 

*  Ps.  Ixxxiii.  4. 


[STAN.  XXXV.]      OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     265 

solitude.  St.  Paul  says  of  the  perfect,  that  they  '  are 
led  by  the  Spirit  of  God/*  and  that  is  the  same  as  saying 
'  In  solitude  hath  He  guided  her.' 

*  Alone  hath  the  Beloved  guided  her.' 

6.  That  is,  the  Beloved  not  only  guides  the  soul  in 
its  solitude,  but  it  is  He  alone  Who  works  in  it  directly 
and  immediately.  It  is  of  the  nature  of  the  soul's  union 
with  God  in  the  spiritual  marriage  that  God  works 
directly,  and  communicates  Himself  immediately,  not 
by  the  ministry  of  angels  or  by  the  help  of  natural  capa- 
cities. For  the  exterior  and  interior  senses,  all  created 
things,  and  even  the  soul  itself,  contribute  very  little 
towards  the  reception  of  those  great  supernatural  favours 
which  God  bestows  in  this  state  ;  yea,  rather,  inasmuch 
as  they  do  not  fall  within  the  cognizance  of  natural 
efforts,  ability  and  application,  God  effects  them  alone. 

7.  The  reason  is,  that  He  finds  the  soul  alone  in  its 
solitude,  and  therefore  will  not  give  it  another  com- 
panion, nor  will  He  entrust  His  work  to  any  other  than 
Himself. 

8.  There  is  a  certain  fitness  in  this  ;  for  the  soul 
having  abandoned  all  things,  and  passed  through  all  the 
ordinary  means,  rising  above  them  unto  God,  God  Him- 
self becomes  the  guide,  and  the  way  to  Himself.     The 

*  Rom.  viii.  14. 


266  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XXXV.] 

soul  in  solitude,  detached  from  all  things,  having  now 
ascended  above  all  things,  nothing  now  can  profit  or 
help  it  to  ascend  higher  except  the  Bridegroom  Word 
Himself,  Who,  because  enamoured  of  the  bride,  will 
Himself  alone  bestow  these  graces  on  the  soul.  And 
so  He  says  : 

'  In  solitude  also  wounded  with  love.' 

9.  That  is,  the  love  of  the  bride  ;  for  the  Bridegroom 
not  only  loves  greatly  the  solitude  of  the  ioul,  but  is  also 
wounded  with  love  of  her,  because  the  soul  would  abide 
in  solitude  and  detachment,  on  account  of  its  being 
itself  wounded  with  love  of  Him.  He  will  not,  therefore, 
leave  it  alone  ;  for  being  wounded  with  love  because  of 
the  soul's  solitude  on  His  account,  and  seeing  that 
nothing  else  can  satisfy  it.  He  comes  Himself  to  be  alone 
its  guide,  drawing  it  to,  and  absorbing  it  in.  Himself. 
But  He  would  not  have  done  so  if  He  had  not  found  it 
in  this  spiritual  solitude. 

NOTE 

It  is  a  strange  characteristic  of  persons  in  love  that 
they  take  a  much  greater  pleasure  in  their  loneliness 
than  in  the  company  of  others.  For  if  they  meet  to- 
gether in  the  presence  of  others  with  whom  they  need 
have  no  intercourse,  and  from  whom  they  have  nothing 


[STAN,  XXXV.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM      267 

to  conceal,  and  if  those  others  neither  address  them  nor 
interfere  with  them,  yet  the  very  fact  of  their  presence 
is  sufficient  to  rob  the  lovers  of  all  pleasure  in  their 
meeting.  The  cause  of  this  lies  in  the  fact  that  love  is 
the  union  of  two  persons,  who  will  not  communicate 
with  each  other  if  they  are  not  alone.  And  now  the 
soul,  having  reached  the  summit  of  perfection,  and 
liberty  of  spirit  in  God,  all  the  resistance  and  contradic- 
tions of  the  flesh  being  subdued,  has  no  other  occupa- 
tion or  employment  than  indulgence  in  the  joys  of  its 
intimate  love  of  the  Bridegroom.  It  is  written  of  holy 
Tobias,  after  the  trials  of  his  life  were  over,  that  God 
restored  his  sight,  and  that  '  the  rest  of  his  life  was  in 
joy.'  *  So  is  it  with  the  perfect  soul,  it  rejoices  in  the 
blessings  that  surround  it, 

2.  The  prophet  Isaias  says  of  the  soul  which,  having 
been  tried  in  the  works  of  perfection  has  arrived  at  the 
goal  desired  :  '  Thy  light  shall  arise  up  in  darkness,  and 
thy  darkness  shall  be  as  the  noonday.  And  the  Lord 
will  give  thee  rest  always,  and  will  fill  thy  soul  with 
brightness,  and  deliver  thy  bones,  and  thou  shalt  be  as  a 
watered  garden  and  as  a  fountain  of  water  whose  waters 
shall  not  fail.  And  the  deserts  of  the  world  shall  be 
builded  in  thee  :  thou  shalt  raise  up  the  foundations  of 
generation  and  generation  ;   and  thou  shalt  be  called  the 

*  Tob,  xiv,  4. 


268  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXVI.] 

builder  of  the  hedges,  turning  the  paths  into  rest.  If  thou 
turn  away  thy  foot  from  the  Sabbath,  from  doing  thy  will 
in  My  holy  day,  and  call  the  Sabbath  delicate,  and  the 
Holy  of  our  Lord  glorious,  and  glorify  Him  while  thou 
doest  not  thine  own  ways,  and  thy  will  be  not  found,  to 
speak  a  word  :  then  shalt  thou  be  delighted  in  the 
Lord,  and  I  will  lift  thee  up  above  the  heights  of  the 
earth,  and  will  feed  thee  with  the  inheritance  of  Jacob 
thy  father,'  *  Who  is  God  Himself.  The  soul,  therefore, 
has  nothing  else  to  do  now  but  to  rejoice  in  the  delights 
of  this  pasture,  and  one  thing  only  to  desire — the  perfect 
fruition  of  it  in  everlasting  life.  Thus,  in  the  next  and 
the  following  stanzas  it  implores  the  Beloved  to  admit 
it  into  this  beatific  pasture  in  the  clear  vision  of  God, 
and  says  : 


STANZA   XXXVI 

THE   BRIDE 

Let  us  rejoice,  O  my  Beloved, 

Let  us  go  forth  to  see  ourselves  in  Thy  beauty, 

To  the  mountain  and  the  hill. 

Where  the  pure  water  flows  ; 

Let  us  enter  into  the  heart  of  the  thicket. 

The  perfect  union  of  love  between  itself  and  God  being 
now  effected,  the  soul  longs  to  occupy  itself  with  those 

*  Isa.  Iviii.  10-14. 


[STAN.  XXXVI.]    OF  THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     269 

things  that  belong  to  love.  It  is  the  soul  which  is  now 
speaking,  making  three  petitions  to  the  Beloved.  In 
the  first  place,  it  asks  for  the  joy  and  sweetness  of  love, 
saying,  '  Let  us  rejoice.'  In  the  second  place,  it  prays 
to  be  made  hke  Him,  saying,  '  Let  us  go  forth  to  see 
ourselves  in  Thy  beauty.'  In  the  third  place,  it  begs 
to  be  admitted  to  the  knowledge  of  His  secrets,  saying, 
'  Let  us  enter  into  the  heart  of  the  thicket.' 

'  Let  us  rejoice,  O  my  Beloved.' 

2.  That  is,  in  the  sweetness  of  our  love  ;  not  only  in 
that  sweetness  of  ordinary  union,  but  also  in  that  which 
flows  from  active  and  affective  love,  whether  in  the  will 
by  an  act  of  affection,  or  outwardly,  in  good  works  which 
tend  to  the  service  of  the  Beloved.  For  love,  as  I  have 
said,  where  it  is  firmly  rooted,  ever  runs  after  those 
joys  and  delights  which  are  the  acts  of  exterior  and 
interior  love.  All  this  the  soul  does  that  it  may  be 
made  like  to  the  Beloved. 

'  Let  us  go  forth  to  see  ourselves  in  Thy  beauty.' 

3.  '  Let  us  so  act,  that,  by  the  practice  of  this  love,  we 
may  come  to  see  ourselves  in  Thy  beauty  in  everlasting 
life.'  That  is  :  '  Let  me  be  so  transformed  in  Thy  beauty, 
that,  being  alike  in  beauty,  we  may  see  ourselves  both 
in  Thy  beauty  ;  having  Thy  beauty,  so  that,  one  beholding 


270  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXVI.] 

the  other,  each  may  see  his  own  beauty  in  the  other, 
the  beauty  of  both  being  Thine  only,  and  mine  absorbed 
in  it.  And  thus  I  shall  see  Thee  in  Thy  beauty,  and 
myself  in  Thy  beauty,  and  Thou  shalt  see  me  in  Thy 
beauty  ;  and  I  shall  see  myself  in  Thee  in  Thy  beauty, 
and  Thou  Thyself  in  me  in  Thy  beauty ;  so  shall  I  seem 
to  be  Thyself  in  Thy  beauty,  and  Thou  myself  in  Thy 
beauty  ;  my  beauty  shall  be  Thine,  Thine  shall  be 
mine,  and  I  shall  be  Thou  in  it,  and  Thou  myself  in 
Thine  own  beauty  ;  for  Thy  beauty  will  be  my  beauty, 
and  so  we  shall  see,  each  the  other,  in  Thy  beauty.' 

4.  This  is  the  adoption  of  the  sons  of  God,  who 
may  truly  say  w'hat  the  Son  Himself  says  to  the  Eternal 
Father  :  '  All  my  things  are  Thine,  and  Thine  are  mine,'* 
He  by  essence,  being  the  Son  of  God  by  nature,  we  by 
participation,  being  sons  by  adoption.  This  He  says 
not  for  Himself  only.  Who  is  the  Head,  but  for  the 
whole  mystical  body,  which  is  the  Church.  For  the 
Church  will  share  in  the  very  beauty  of  the  Bridegroom 
in  the  day  of  her  triumph,  when  she  shall  see  God  face 
to  face.  And  this  is  the  vision  which  the  soul  prays 
that  the  Bridegroom  and  itself  may  go  in  His  beauty 
to  see. 

'  To  the  mountain  and  the  hill.' 
*  St.  John  xvii.  10. 


[STAN.  XXXVI.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     27I 

.  5.  That  is,  to  the  morning  and  essential  knowledge  of 
God,*  which  is  knowledge  in  the  Divine  Word,  Who, 
because  He  is  so  high,  is  here  signified  by  '  the  moun- 
tain.' Thus  Isaias  saith,  calling  upon  men  to  know  the 
Son  of  God  :  '  Come,  and  let  us  go  up  to  the  mountain 
of  our  Lord  '  ;t  and  before  :  '  In  the  last  days  the 
mountain  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  shall  be  prepared.' J 

'  And  to  the  hill' 

6.  That  is,  to  the  evening  knowledge  of  God,  to  the 
knowledge  of  Him  in  His  creatures,  in  His  works,  and 
in  His  marvellous  laws.  This  is  signified  by  the  ex- 
pression '  hill,'  because  it  is  a  kind  of  knowledge  lower 
than  the  other.  The  soul  prays  for  both  when  it  says 
'  to  the  mountain  and  the  hill.' 

7.  When  the  soul  says,  '  Let  us  go  forth  to  see 
ourselves  in  Thy  beauty  to  the  mountain,'  its  meaning 
is,  '  Transform  me,  and  make  me  like  the  beauty  of  the 
Divine  Wisdom,  the  Word,  the  Son  of  God.'  When  it 
says  '  to  the  hill,'  the  meaning  is,  '  Do  Thou  instruct 
me   in   the  beauty   of  this  lower  knowledge,   which  is 


*  St.  Augustine,  '  De  Genesi  ad  Litt.'  iv.,  xxiv.  (and  elsewhere)  and 
the  scholastics  (St.  Thomas,  '  S.  Th.'  I.  Iviii.  7)  distinguish  between  the 
'  morning  knowledge  '  whereby  angels  and  saints  know  created  things 
by  seeing  the  Divine  Word,  and  '  evening  knowledge  '  where  they 
derive  their  knowledge  from  the  created  things  themselves. 

t   Isa.  ii.  3.  *  lb.  2. 


272  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XXXVI.] 

manifest  in  Thy  creatures  and  mysterious  works.'  This 
also  is  the  beauty  of  the  Son  of  God,  wherewith  the 
soul  desires  to  shine. 

8.  But  the  soul  cannot  see  itself  in  the  beauty  of 
God  if  it  be  not  transformed  in  His  wisdom,  wherein  all 
things  are  seen  and  possessed,  whether  in  heaven  or 
in  earth.  It  was  to  this  mountain  and  to  this  hill  the 
bride  longed  to  come  when  she  said,  '  I  will  go  to  the 
mountain  of  myrrh,  and  to  the  hill  of  frankincense.'* 
The  mountain  of  myrrh  is  the  clear  vision  of  God,  and 
the  hill  of  frankincense  the  knowledge  of  Him  in  His 
works,  for  the  myrrh  on  the  mountain  is  of  a  higher 
order  than  the  incense  on  the  hill. 

*  Where  the  pure  water  flows.' 

9.  This  is  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God,  which 
cleanse  the  understanding,  and  detach  it  from  all  accidents 
and  fancies,  and  which  clear  it  of  the  mist  of  ignorance. 
The  soul  is  ever  influenced  by  this  desire  of  perfectly 
and  clearly  understanding  the  divine  verities,  and  the 
more  it  loves  the  more  it  desires  to  penetrate  them, 
and  hence  the  third  petition  which  it  makes: 

'  Let  us  enter  into  the  heart  of  the  thicket ; ' 

10.  Into  the  depths  of  God's  marvellous  works  and 

*  Cant.  iv.  6. 


[STAN.  XXXVI.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    273 

profound  judgments.  Such  is  their  muUitude  and 
variety,  that  they  may  be  called  a  thicket.  They  are 
so  full  of  wisdom  and  mystery,  that  we  may  not  only 
call  them  a  thicket,  but  we  may  even  apply  to  them 
the  words  of  David  :  '  The  mountain  of  God  is  a  rich 
mountain,  a  mountain  curdled  as  cheese,  a  rich 
mountain.'*  The  thicket  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge 
of  God  is  so  deep,  and  so  immense,  that  the  soul,  how 
much  soever  it  knows  of  it,  can  always  penetrate  further 
within  it,  because  it  is  so  immense  and  so  incompre- 
hensible. '  O  the  depth,'  cries  out  the  Apostle,  '  of 
the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  of  the  knowledge  of  God  ! 
How  incomprehensible  are  His  judgments,  and  how 
unsearchable  His  ways  !  'f 

II.  But  the  soul  longs  to  enter  this  thicket  and 
incomprehensibility  of  His  judgments,  for  it  is  moved 
by  that  longing  for  a  deeper  knowledge  of  them.  That 
knowledge  is  an  inestimable  delight,  transcending  all 
understanding.  David  speaking  of  the  sweetness  of 
them,  saith  :  '  The  judgments  of  our  Lord  are  true, 
justified  in  themselves,  to  be  desired  above  gold  and 
many  precious  stones,  and  sweeter  than  honey  and  the 
honey-comb.  For  Thy  servant  keepeth  them. 'J  The 
soul  therefore  earnestly  longs  to  be  engulfed  in  His 
judgments,  and  to  have  a  deeper  knowledge  of  them, 

*  Ps.  Ixvii.   16.  t   Rom.  xi.   33.  X  Ps.  xviii,   10-12. 

18 


274  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN,  XXXVI.] 

and  for  that  end  would  esteem  it  a  joy  and  great  con- 
solation to  endure  all  sufferings  and  afflictions  in  the 
world,  and  whatever  else  might  help  it  to  that  end,  how- 
ever hard  and  painful  it  might  be  ;  it  would  gladly  pass 
through  the  agonies  of  death  to  enter  deeper  into  God. 

12.  Hence,  also,  the  thicket,  which  the  soul  desires 
to  enter,  may  be  fittingly  imderstood  as  signifying 
the  great  and  many  trials  and  tribulations  which  the 
soul  longs  for,  because  suffering  is  most  sweet  and  most 
profitable  to  it,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  way  by  which  it 
enters  more  and  more  into  the  thicket  of  the  delicious 
wisdom  of  God.  The  most  pure  suffering  leads  to  the 
most  pure  and  the  deepest  knowledge,  and  consequently 
to  the  purest  and  highest  joy,  for  that  is  the  issue  of 
the  deepest  knowledge.  Thus,  the  soul,  not  satisfied 
with  ordinary  suffering,  says,  '  Let  us  enter  into  the 
heart  of  the  thicket,'  even  the  anguish  of  death,  that 
I  may  see  God. 

13-  Job,  desiring  to  suffer  that  he  might  see  God, 
thus  speaks  :  '  Who  will  grant  that  my  request  may 
come,  and  that  God  may  give  me  what  I  look  for  ?  And 
that  He  that  hath  begun  may  destroy  me,  that  He  may 
let  loose  His  hand  and  cut  me  off  ?  And  that  this  may 
be  my  comfort,  that  afflicting  me  with  sorrow.  He  spare 
not.'*     O  that  men  would  understand  how  impossible 

*    Job.  vi  S-io. 


[STAN.  XXXVI.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     275 

it  is  to  enter  the  thicket,  the  manifold  riches  of  the 
wisdom  of  God,  without  entering  into  the  thicket  of 
manifold  suffering  making  it  the  desire  and  consolation 
of  the  soul ;  and  how  that  the  soul  which  really  longs 
for  the  divine  wisdom  longs  first  of  all  for  the  sufferings 
of  the  Cross,  that  it  may  enter  in. 

14.  For  this  cause  it  was  that  St.  Paul  admonished 
the  Ephesians  not  to  faint  in  their  tribulations,  but  to 
take  courage  :  '  That  being  rooted  and  founded  in 
charity,  you  may  be  able  to  comprehend  with  all  the 
saints  what  is  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  height,  and 
depth  ;  to  know  also  the  charity  of  Christ,  which  sur- 
passeth  all  knowledge,  that  you  may  be  filled  unto  all 
the  fulness  of  God.'*  The  gate  by  which  we  enter  into 
the  riches  of  the  knowledge  of  God  is  the  Cross  ;  and 
that  gate  is  narrow.  They  who  desire  to  enter  in  that 
way  are  few,  while  those  who  desire  the  joys  that  come 
by  it  are  many. 

NOTE 

One  of  the  principal  reasons  why  the  soul  desires  to  be 
released  and  to  be  with  Christ,  is,  that  it  may  see  Him 
face  to  face,  and  penetrate  to  the  depths  of  His  ways 
and  the  eternal  mysteries  of  His  incarnation,  which  is 
not  the  least  part  of  its  blessedness  ;    for  in  the  Gospel 

*  Eph.  iii.   17-19. 


276  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVII.] 

of  St.  John  He,  addressing  the  Father,  said  :  '  Now  this 
is  eternal  hfe  :  that  they  may  know  Thee,  the  only 
true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  Whom  Thou  hast  sent.'* 
As  the  first  act  of  a  person  who  has  taken  a  long  journey 
is  to  see  and  converse  with  him  whom  he  was  in  search 
of,  so  the  first  thing  which  the  soul  desires,  when  it  has 
attained  to  the  beatific  vision,  is  to  know  and  enjoy  the 
deep  secrets  and  mysteries  of  the  incarnation  and  the 
ancient  ways  of  God  depending  on  them.  Thus  the 
soul,  having  said  that  it  longed  to  see  itself  in  the  beauty 
of  God,  sings  as  in  the  following  stanza  : 

STANZA    XXXVII 

We  shall  go  at  once 

To  the  deep  caverns  of  the  rock 

Which  are  all  secret  ; 

There  we  shall  enter  in, 

And  taste  of  the  new  wine  of  the  pomegranate. 

One  of  the  reasons  which  most  influence  the  soul  to 
desire  to  enter  into  the  '  thicket '  of  the  wisdom  of  God, 
and  to  have  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  the  beauty  of 
the  divine  wisdom,  is,  as  I  have  said,  that  it  may  unite 
the  understanding  with  God  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  Incarnation,  as  of  all  His  works  the 
highest  and  most  full  of  sweetness,  and  the  most  delicious 

*  St.  John  xvii.  3. 


[STAN.  XXXVII.]    OF   THE   SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM    277 

knowledge.  And  here  the  bride  therefore  says,  that 
after  she  has  entered  in  within  the  divine  wisdom — that 
is,  the  spiritual  marriage,  which  is  now  and  \vill  be  in 
glory,  seeing  God  face  to  face — her  soul  united  with  the 
divine  wisdom,  the  Son  of  God,  she  will  then  understand 
the  deep  mysteries  of  God  and  Man,  which  are  the  highest 
wisdom  hidden  in  God.  They,  that  is,  the  bride  and 
the  Bridegroom,  will  enter  in — the  soul  ingulfed  and 
absorbed — and  both  together  will  have  the  fruition  of 
the  joy  which  springs  from  the  knowledge  of  mysteries, 
and  attributes  and  power  of  God  which  are  revealed  in 
those  mysteries,  such  as  His  justice,  His  mercy,  wisdom, 
power,  and  love. 

'  We  shall  go  at  once  to  the  deep  caverns  of  the  rock.' 

2.  '  This  rock  is  Christ,'  as  we  learn  from  St.  Paul.* 
The  deep  caverns  of  the  rock  are  the  deep  mysteries  of 
the  wisdom  of  God  in  Christ,  in  the  hypostatical  union 
of  the  human  nature  with  the  Divine  Word,  and  in 
the  correspondence  with  it  of  the  union  of  man  with 
God,  and  in  the  agreement  of  God's  justice  and  mercy 
in  the  salvation  of  mankind,  in  the  manifestation  of 
His  judgments.  And  because  His  judgments  are  so 
high  and  so  deep,  they  are  here  fittingly  called  '  deep 
caverns  '  ;    deep  because  of  the  depth  of  His  mysteries, 

*  I  Cor.  X.  4. 


278  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVII.] 

and  caverns  because  of  the  depth  of  His  wisdom  in 
them.  For  as  caverns  are  deep,  with  many  windings, 
so  each  mystery  of  Christ  is  of  deepest  wisdom,  and 
has  many  windings  of  His  secret  judgments  of  pre- 
destination and  foreknowledge  with  respect  to  men. 

*  Which  are  all  secret.' 

3.  Notwithstanding  the  marvellous  mysteries  which 
holy  doctors  have  discovered,  and  holy  souls  have 
understood  in  this  life,  many  more  remain  behind. 
There  are  in  Christ  great  depths  to  be  fathomed,  for  He 
is  a  rich  mine,  with  many  recesses  full  of  treasures,  and 
however  deeply  we  may  descend  we  shall  never  reach 
the  end,  for  in  every  recess  new  veins  of  new  treasures 
abound  in  all  directions  :  '  In  Whom,'  according  to 
the  Apostle,  '  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge.'*  But  the  soul  cannot  reach  these  hidden 
treasures  unless  it  first  passes  through  the  thicket  of 
interior  and  exterior  suffering  :  for  even  such  knowledge 
of  the  mysteries  of  Christ  as  is  possible  in  this  life  cannot 
be  had  without  great  sufferings,  and  without  many 
intellectual  and  moral  gifts,  and  without  previous 
spiritual  exercises  ;  for  all  these  gifts  are  far  inferior 
to  this  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  of  Christ,  being 
only  a  preparation  for  it. 

*  Cpi,  ii.  3, 


[STAN,  XXXVII.]     OF   THE    SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM     279 

4.  Thus  God  said  to  Moses,  when  he  asked  to  see 
His  glory,  '  Man  shall  not  see  Me  and  live.'  God,  how- 
ever, said  that  He  would  show  him  all  that  could  be 
revealed  in  this  life  ;  and  so  He  set  Moses  *  in  a  hole 
of  the  rock,'  which  is  Christ,  where  he  might  see  His 
*  back  parts ' ;  *  that  is.  He  made  him  understand  the 
mysteries  of  the  Sacred  Humanity. 

5.  The  soul  longs  to  enter  in  earnest  into  these 
caverns  of  Christ,  that  it  may  be  absorbed,  transformed, 
and  inebriated  in  the  love  and  knowledge  of  His  mys- 
teries, hiding  itself  in  the  bosom  of  the  Beloved.  It  is 
into  these  caverns  that  He  invites  the  bride,  in  the 
Canticle,  to  enter,  saying  :  '  Arise,  my  love,  my  beautiful 
one,  and  come  ;  my  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in 
the  hollow  places  of  the  wall.'  f  These  clefts  of  the 
rock  are  the  caverns  of  which  we  are  here  speaking,  and 
to  which  the  bride  refers,  saying  : 

'  And  there  we  shall  enter  in.' 

6.  Tha  is,  in  the  knowledge  of  the  divine  mysteries. 
The  bride  says  not  '  I  will  enter  '  alone,  which  seems  the 
most  fitting — seeing  that  the  Bridegroom  has  no  need  to 
enter  in  again — but  '  we  will  enter,'  that  is,  the  Bride- 
groom and  the  bride,  to  show  that  this  is  not  the  work 
pf  the  bride,  but  of  the  Bridegroom  with  her.     Moreover, 

^  Exod.  xxxiii,  20-23.  t  Cant,  ii.   13,   14. 


28o  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVII.] 

inasmuch  as  God  and  the  soul  are  now  united  in  the 
state  of  spiritual  marriage,  the  soul  doeth  nothing  of 
itself  without  God.  To  say  '  we  will  enter,'  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  '  there  shall  we  transform  ourselves  ' — that  is, 
'  I  shall  be  transformed  in  Thee  through  the  love  of  Thy 
divine  and  sweet  judgments  '  :  for  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  predestination  of  the  just  and  in  the  foresight  of  the 
wicked,  wherein  the  Father  prevented  the  just  in  the 
benedictions  of  His  sweetness  in  Jesus  Christ  His  Son, 
the  soul  is  transformed  in  a  most  exalted  and  perfect 
way  in  the  love  of  God  according  to  this  knowledge, 
giving  thanks  to  the  Father,  and  loving  Him  again  and 
again  with  great  sweetness  and  delight,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ  His  Son.  This  the  soul  does  in  union  with 
Christ  and  together  with  Him.  The  delight  flowing 
from  this  act  of  praise  is  ineffably  sweet,  and  the  soul 
speaks  of  it  in  the  words  that  follow  : 

'  And  taste  of  the  new  wine  of  the  pomegranates.' 

7.  The  pomegranates  here  are  the  mysteries  of 
Christ  and  the  judgments  of  the  wisdom  of  God  ;  His 
power  and  attributes,  the  knowledge  of  which  we  have 
from  these  mysteries  ;  and  they  are  infinite.  For  as 
pomegranates  have  many  grains  in  their  round  orb,  so  in 
each  one  of  the  attributes  and  judgments  and  power  of 
God    is    a    multitude    of    admirable    arrangements    and 


[STAN.  XXXVII.]    OF   THE   SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM    281 

marvellous  works  contained  within  the  sphere  of  power 
and  mystery,  appertaining  to  those  works.  Consider  the 
round  form  of  the  pomegranate  ;  for  each  pomegranate 
signifies  some  one  power  and  attribute  of  God,  which 
power  or  attribute  is  God  Himself,  symbolised  here  by 
the  circular  figure,  which  has  neither  beginning  nor  end. 
It  was  in  the  contemplation  of  the  judgments  and 
mysteries  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  which  are  infinite,  that 
the  bride  said,  '  His  belly  is  of  ivory  set  with  sapphires.'* 
The  sapphires  are  the  mysteries  and  judgments  of  the 
divine  Wisdom,  which  is  here  signified  by  the  '  belly  ' — 
the  sapphire  being  a  precious  stone  of  the  colour  of  the 
heavens  when  clear  and  serene. 

8.  The  wine  of  the  pomegranates  which  the  bride  says 
that  she  and  the  Bridegroom  will  taste  is  the  fruition 
and  joy  of  the  love  of  God  which  overflows  the  soul  in 
the  understanding  and  knowledge  of  His  mysteries.  For 
as  the  many  grains  of  the  pomegranate  pressed  together 
give  forth  but  one  wine,  so  all  the  marvels  and  mag- 
nificence of  God,  infused  into  the  soul,  issue  in  but  one 
fruition  and  joy  of  love,  which  is  the  drink  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  which  the  soul  offers  at  once  to  God  the  Word, 
its  Bridegroom,  with  great  tenderness  of  love. 

9.  This  divine  drink  the  bride  promised  to  the  Bride- 
groom if  He  would  lead  her  into  this  deep  knowledge  : 

*  Cant.  V.  14. 


282  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XXXVII.] 

'  There  Thou  shall  teach  me,'  saith  the  bride,  '  and  I 
will  give  Thee  a  cup  of  spiced  wine,  and  new  wine  of  my 
pomegranates.'  *  The  soul  calls  them  '  my  pome- 
granates,' though  they  are  God's  Who  had  given  them 
to  it,  and  the  soul  offers  them  to  God  as  if  they  were  its 
own,  saying,  '  We  will  taste  of  the  wine  of  the  pome- 
granates '  ;  for  when  He  tastes  it  He  gives  it  to  the  soul 
to  taste,  and  when  the  soul  tastes  it,  the  soul  gives  it 
back  to  Him,  and  thus  it  is  that  both  taste  it  together. 

NOTE 

In  the  two  previous  stanzas  the  bride  sung  of  those  good 
things  which  the  Bridegroom  is  to  give  her  in  ever- 
lasting bliss,  namely,  her  transformation  in  the  beauty 
of  created  and  uncreated  wisdom,  and  also  in  the  beauty 
of  the  union  of  the  Word  with  flesh,  wherein  she  shall 
behold  His  face  as  well  as  His  back.  Accordingly  two 
things  are  set  before  us  in  the  following  stanza.  The 
first  is  the  way  in  which  the  soul  tastes  of  the  divine 
wine  of  the  pomegranates  ;  the  second  is  the  soul's 
putting  before  the  Bridegroom  the  glory  of  its  predestina- 
tion. And  though  these  two  things  are  spoken  of 
separately,  one  after  the  other,  they  are  both  involved 
in  the  one  essential  glory  of  the  soul. 

*  Cant.  viii.  2. 


[STAN.  XXXVIII.]    OF   THE  SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM    283 

STANZA    XXXVIII 

There  Thoii'wilt  show  me 

That  which  my  soul  desired  ; 

And  there  Thou  wilt  give  me  at  once,  •  •  . 

0  Thou,  my  life. 

That  which  Thou  gavest  me  the  other  day. 

The  reason  why  the  soul  longed  to  enter  the  caverns 
was  that  it  might  attain  to  the  consummation  of  the 
love  of  God,  the  object  of  its  continual  desires  ;  that  is, 
that  it  might  love  God  with  the  pureness  and  perfection 
wherewith  He  has  loved  it,  so  that  it  might  thereby 
requite  His  love.  Hence  in  the  present  stanza  the  bride 
saith  to  the  Bridegroom  that  He  will  there  show  her 
what  she  had  always  aimed  at  in  all  her  actions,  namely, 
that  He  would  show  her  how  to  love  Him  perfectly,  as 
He  has  loved  her.  And,  secondly,  that  He  will  give  her 
that  essential  glory  for  which  He  has  predestined  her 
from  the  day  of  His  eternity. 

'  There  Thou  wilt  show  me 
That  which  my  soul  desired.' 

2.  That  which  the  soul  aims  at  is  equality  in  love 
with  God,  the  object  of  its  natural  and  supernatural 
desire.  He  who  loves  cannot  be  satisfied  if  he  does  not 
feel  that  he  loves  as  much  as  he  is  loved.  And  when 
the  fiOul  sees  that  in  the  transformation  in  God,  such  as 


284  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVIII.] 

is  possible  in  this  life,  notwithstanding  the  immensity 
of  its  love,  it  cannot  equal  the  perfection  of  that  love 
wherewith  God  loves  it,  it  desires  the  clear  transformation 
of  glory  wherein  it  shall  equal  the  perfection  of  love 
wherewith  it  is  itself  beloved  of  God  ;  it  desires,  I  say, 
the  clear  transformation  of  glory  wherein  it  shall  equal 
His  love. 

3.  For  though  in  this  high  state,  which  the  soul 
reaches  on  earth,  there  is  a  real  union  of  the  will,  yet  it 
cannot  reach  that  perfection  and  strength  of  love  which 
it  will  possess  in  the  union  of  glory;  seeing  that  then, 
according  to  the  Apostle,  the  soul  will  know  God  as  it 
is  known  of  Him  :  '  Then  I  shall  know  even  as  I  am 
known.'  *  That  is,  '  I  shall  then  love  God  even  as  I  am 
loved  by  Him.'  For  as  the  understanding  of  the  soul  will 
then  be  the  understanding  of  God,  and  its  will  the  will 
of  God,  so  its  love  will  also  be  His  love.  Though  in 
heaven  the  will  of  the  soul  is  not  destroyed,  it  is  so  in- 
timately united  with  the  power  of  the  will  of  God,  Who 
loves  it,  that  it  loves  Him  as  strongly  and  as  perfectly 
as  it  is  loved  of  Him  ;  both  wills  being  united  in  one 
sole  will  and  one  sole  love  of  God. 

4,  Thus  the  soul  loves  God  with  the  will  and  strength 
of  God  Himself,  being  made  one  with  that  very  strength 
of  love  wherewith  itself  is  loved  of  God,     This  strength 

*  I  Cor.  xiii.   12. 


[STAN.  XXXVIII.]    OF  THE    SOUL  AND  ITS  BRIDEGROOM    285 

is  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  Whom  the  soul  is  there  trans- 
formed. He  is  given  to  the  soul  to  strengthen  its  love  ; 
ministering  to  it,  and  supplying  in  it,  because  of  its 
transformation  in  glory,  that  which  is  defective  in  it. 
In  the  perfect  transformation,  also,  of  the  state  of  spiritual 
marriage,  such  as  is  possible  on  earth,  in  which  the  soul 
is  all  clothed  in  grace,  the  soul  loves  in  a  certain  way  in 
the  Holy  Ghost,  Who  is  given  to  it  in  that  transformation. 

5.  We  are  to  observe  here  that  the  bride  does  not 
say,  '  There  wilt  Thou  give  me  Thy  love,'  though  that  be 
true — for  that  means  only  that  God  will  love  her — but 
that  He  will  there  show  her  how  she  is  to  love  Him  with 
that  perfection  at  which  she  aims,  because  there  in 
giving  her  His  love  He  will  at  the  same  time  show  her 
how  to  love  Him  as  He  loves  her.  For  God  not  only 
teaches  the  soul  to  love  Himself  purely,  with  a 
disinterested  love,  as  He  hath  loved  us,  but  He  also 
enables  it  to  love  Him  with  that  strength  with  which 
He  loves  the  soul,  transforming  it  in  His  love,  wherein 
He  bestows  upon  it  His  own  power,  so  that  it  may  love 
Him.  It  is  as  if  He  put  an  instrument  in  its  hand, 
taught  it  the  use  thereof,  and  played  upon  it  together 
with  the  soul.  This  is  showing  the  soul  how  it  is  to 
love,  and  at  the  same  time  endowing  it  with  the  capacity 
of  loving. 

6.  The  soul  is  not  satisfied  until  it  reaches  this  point. 


286  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVIII.] 

neither  would  it  be  satisfied  even  in  heaven,  unless  it 
felt,  as  St.  Thomas  teaches,*  that  it  loved  God  as  much 
as  it  is  loved  of  Him.  And  as  I  said  of  the  state  of 
spiritual  marriage  of  which  I  am  speaking,  there  is  now 
at  this  time,  though  it  cannot  be  that  perfect  love  in 
glory,  a  certain  vivid  vision  and  likeness  of  that  per- 
fection, which  is  wholly  indescribable. 

'  And  there  Thou  wilt  give  me  at  once,  O  Thou  my  life, 
that  which  Thou  gavest  me  the  other  day.' 

7.  What  He  will  give  is  the  essential  glory  which 
consists  in  the  vision  of  God.  Before  proceeding  further 
it  is  requisite  to  solve  a  question  which  arises  here, 
namely.  Why  is  it,  seeing  that  essential  glory  consists 
in  the  vision  of  God,  and  not  in  loving  Him,  the  soul 
says  that  its  longing  is  for  His  love,  and  not  for  the  essen- 
tial glory  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  soul  begins  the  stanza 
with  referring  to  His  love,  and  then  introduces  the  subject 
of  the  essential  glory  afterwards,  as  if  it  were  something 
of  less  importance  ? 

8.  There  are  two  reasons  for  this.  The  first  is  this  : 
As  the  whole  aim  of  the  soul  is  love,  the  seat  of  which 
is  in  the  will,  the  property  of  which  is  to  give  and  not 
to  receive — the  property  of  the  understanding,  the 
subject  of  essential  glory,  being  to  receive  and  not  to 

*  '  Opusc.  de  Beatitudine,'  cap.  2. 


[STAN.  XXXVIII.]    OF   THE  SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM   287 

give — to  the  soul  inebriated  with  love  the  first  con- 
sideration is  not  the  essential  glory  which  God  will 
bestow  upon  it,  but  the  entire  surrender  of  itself  to  Him 
in  true  love,  without  any  regard  to  its  own  advantage. 

9.  The  second  reason  is  that  the  second  object  is 
included  in  the  first,  and  has  been  taken  for  granted  in 
the  previous  stanzas,  it  being  impossible  to  attain  to 
the  perfect  love  of  God  without  the  perfect  vision  of 
Him.  The  question  is  solved  by  the  first  reason,  for  the 
soul  renders  to  God  by  love  that  which  is  His  due,  but 
with  the  understanding  it  receives  from  Him  and  does 
not  give. 

10.  I  now  resume  the  explanation  of  the  stanza,  and 
inquire  what  day  is  meant  by  the  *  other  day,'  and 
what  is  it  that  God  then  gave  the  soul,  and  what  that 
is  which  it  prays  to  receive  afterwards  in  glory  ?  By 
'  other  day  '  is  meant  the  day  of  the  eternity  of  God, 
which  is  other  than  the  day  of  time.  In  that  day  of 
eternity  God  predestined  the  soul  unto  glory,  and  deter- 
mined the  degree  of  glory  which  He  would  give  it  and 
freely  gave  from  the  beginning  before  He  created  it.  This 
now,  in  a  manner,  so  truly  belongs  to  the  soul  that  no 
event  or  accident,  high  or  low,  can  ever  take  it  away, 
for  the  soul  will  enjoy  for  ever  that  for  which  God  had 
predestined  it  from  all  eternity. 

11.  This  is  that  which  He  gave  it  *  the  other  day  '  ; 


288  A    SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE      [STAN.  XXXVIII.] 

that  which  the  soul  longs  now  to  possess  visibly  in  glory. 
And  what  is  that  which  He  gave  it  ?  That  what  '  eye 
hath  not  seen  nor  ear  hath  heard,  neither  hath  it  ascended 
into  the  heart  of  man.'*  '  The  eye  hath  not  seen/  saith 
Isaias,  '  0  God,  beside  Thee,  what  things  Thou  hast 
prepared  for  them  that  expect  Thee.'  f  The  soul  has 
no  word  to  describe  it,  so  it  says  '  what.'  It  is  in  truth 
the  vision  of  God,  and  as  there  is  no  expression  by  which 
we  can  explain  what  it  is  to  see  God,  the  soul  says  only 
'  that  which  Thou  gavest  me.' 

12.  But  that  I  may  not  leave  the  subject  without 
saying  something  further  concerning  it,  I  will  repeat  what 
Christ  hath  said  of  it  in  the  Apocalypse  of  St,  John,  in 
many  terms,  phrases,  and  comparisons,  because  a  single 
word  once  uttered  cannot  describe  it,  for  there  is  much 
still  unsaid,  notwithstanding  all  that  Christ  hath  spoken 
at  seven  different  times.  '  To  him  that  overcometh,' 
saith  He,  '  I  will  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life,  which 
is  in  the  paradise  of  My  God.'  J  But  as  this  does  not 
perfectly  describe  it,  He  says  again  :  '  Be  thou  faithful 
unto  death ;  and  I  will  give  thee  the  crown  of  life.'§ 

13.  This  also  is  insufficient,  and  so  He  speaks  again 
more  obscurely,  but  explaining  it  more  :  '  To  him  that 
overcometh  I  will  give  the  hidden  manna,  and  will  give 
him  a  white  counter,  and  on  the  counter  a  new  name 

*  I  Cor.  ii.  9.         t  Isa.  Ixiv.  4.         J  Apex:,  ii.  7.         §  lb.  10. 


[STAN.  XXXVIII.]    OF  THE  SOUL  AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    289 

written,  which  no  man  knoweth  but  he  that  receiveth 
it.'  *  And  as  even  this  is  still  insufficient,  the  Son  of 
God  speaks  of  great  power  and  joy,  saying  :  '  He  that 
shall  overcome  and  keep  My  works  unto  the  end,  I  will 
give  him  power  over  the  nations  :  and  he  shall  rule  them 
with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  as  a  vessel  of  the  potter  they  shall 
be  broken  :  as  I  also  have  received  of  My  Father.  And 
I  will  give  him  the  morning  star.'  f  Not  satisfied  with 
these  words,  He  adds  :  '  He  that  shall  overcome  shall 
thus  be  vested  in  white  garments,  and  I  will  not  put  his 
name  out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  I  will  confess  his  name 
before  My  Father.'  J 

14.  Still,  all  this  falls  short.  He  speaks  of  it  in 
words  of  unutterable  majesty  and  grandeur  :  *  He  that 
shall  overcome  I  will  make  him  a  pillar  in  the  temple  of 
My  God,  and  he  shall  go  out  no  more  ;  and  I  will  write 
upon  him  the  name  of  My  God,  and  the  name  of  the  city 
of  My  God,  the  new  Jerusalem  which  descendeth  out 
of  heaven  from  My  God,  and  My  new  name.'  §  The 
seventh  time  He  says  :  '  He  that  shall  overcome,  I  will 
give  unto  him  to  sit  wdth  Me  in  My  throne  :  as  I  also 
have  overcome,  and  sat  with  My  Father  in  His  throne. 
He  that  hath  an  ear  let  him  hear  what  the  Spirit  saith 
to  the  Churches. II 

15.  These  are  the  words  of  the  Son  of  God  ;    all  of 

*  Apoc.  ii.  17.     t  I^-  26-28.     X  I^-  ii^-  5-    §  J^^-  ^2.     ||  lb.  21,  22. 

19 


290  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE       [STAN.  XXXVIII.] 

which  tend  to  describe  that  which  was  given  to  the 
soul.  The  words  correspond  most  accurately  with  it, 
but  still  they  do  not  explain  it,  because  it  involves  in- 
finite good.  The  noblest  expressions  befit  it,  but  none 
of  them  reach  it,  no,  not  all  together. 

16.  Let  us  now  see  whether  David  hath  said  anything 
of  it.  In  one  of  the  Psalms  he  saith,  '  O  how  great  is 
the  multitude  of  Thy  sweetness,  O  Lord,  which  Thou 
hast  hidden  for  them  that  fear  Thee.'  *  In  another 
place  he  calls  it  a  '  torrent  of  pleasure,'  saying,  '  Thou 
shalt  make  them  drink  of  the  torrent  of  Thy  pleasure. 'f 
And  as  he  did  not  consider  this  enough,  he  says  again, 
'  Thou  hast  prevented  him  with  blessings  of  sweetness.'  J 
The  expression  that  rightly  fits  this  '  that  '  of  the  soul, 
namely,  its  predestined  bliss,  cannot  be  found.  Let  us, 
therefore,  rest  satisfied  with  what  the  soul  has  used  in 
reference  to  it,  and  explain  the  words  as  follows  : 

j  '  That  wh'ch  Thou  gavest  me.' 

17.  That  is,  '  That  weight  of  gloiy  to  which  Thou 
didst  predestine  me,  O  my  Bridegroom,  in  the  day  of 
Thy  eternity,  when  it  was  Thy  good  pleasure  to  decree 
my  creation.  Thou  wilt  then  give  me  in  my  day  of  my 
betrothal  and  of  my  nuptials,  in  my  day  of  the  joy  of 
my  heart,  when,  released  from  the  burden  of  the  flesh, 

*  Ps.  XXX.  20.  t   ^i>'  XXXV.  9.  X  lb.  XX.  4. 


LSTAN.  XXXIX.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM    2gi 

led  into  the  deep  caverns  of  Thy  bridal  chamber  and 
gloriously  transformed  in  Thee,  we  drink  the  wine  of 
the  sweet  pomegranates.' 

NOTE 

But  inasmuch  as  the  soul,  in  the  state  of  spiritual 
marriage,  of  which  I  am  now  speaking,  cannot  but 
know  something  of  this  '  that,'  seeing  that  because  of 
its  transformation  in  God  something  of  it  must  be  ex- 
perienced by  it,  it  will  not  omit  to  say  something  on  the 
subject,  the  pledges  and  signs  of  which  it  is  conscious  of 
in  itself,  as  it  is  wTitten  :  '  Who  can  withhold  the  words 
He  hath  conceived  ?  '  *  Hence  in  the  following  stanza 
the  soul  says  something  of  the  fruition  which  it  shall 
have  in  the  beatific  vision,  explaining  so  far  as  it  is 
possible  the  nature  and  the  manner  of  it. 

STANZA    XXXIX 

The  breathing  of  the  air, 

The  song  of  the  sweet  nightingale, 

The  grove  and  its  beauty 

In  the  serene  night. 

With  the  flame  that  consumes  and  gives  no  pain. 

The  soul  refers  here,  under  five  different  expressions, 
to  that  which  the  Bridegroom  is  to  give  it  in  the  beatific 

*  Job  iv.  2. 


292  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIX.] 

transformation,  i.  The  aspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  God  after  it,  and  its  own  aspiration  after  God. 
2.  Joyous  praise  of  God  in  the  fruition  of  Him.  3.  The 
knowledge  of  creatures  and  the  order  of  them.  4.  The 
pure  and  clear  contemplation  of  the  divine  essence. 
5.  Perfect  transformation  in  the  infinite  love  of  God. 

'  The  breathing  of  the  air.' 

2.  Th"s  is  a  certain  faculty  which  God  will  there 
give  the  soul  in  the  communication  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Who,  like  one  breathing,  ra'ses  the  soul  by  His  divine 
aspiration,  informs  it,  strengthens  it,  so  that  it  too  may 
breathe  in  God  with  the  same  aspiration  of  love  which 
the  Father  breathes  \\dth  the  Son,  and  the  Son  with  the 
Father,  which  is  the  Holy  Ghost  Himself,  Who  is  breathed 
into  the  soul  in  the  Father  and  the  Son  in  that  trans- 
formation so  as  to  unite  it  to  Himself ;  for  the  trans- 
formation will  not  be  true  and  perfect  if  the  soul  is  not 
transformed  in  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Most  Holy 
Trinity  in  a  clear  manifest  degree.  This  breathing  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  soul,  whereby  God  transforms  it 
in  Himself,  is  to  the  soul  a  joy  so  deep,  so  exquisite,  and 
so  grand  that  no  mortal  tongue  can  describe  it,  no 
human  understanding,  as  such,  conceive  it  in  any  degree  ; 
for  even  that  which  passes  in  the  soul  with  respect  to 
the  communication  which  takes  place  in  its  transformation 


[STAN,  XXXIX.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     293 

wrought  in  this  hfe  cannot  be  described,  because  the 
soul  united  with  God  and  transformed  in  Him  breathes 
in  God  that  very  divine  aspiration  which  God  breathes 
Himself  in  the  soul  when  it  is  transformed  in  Him. 

3.  In  the  transformation  which  takes  place  in  this 
life,  this  breathing  of  God  in  the  soul,  and  of  the  soul 
in  God,  is  of  most  frequent  occurrence,  and  the  source 
of  the  most  exquisite  delight  of  love  to  the  soul,  but 
not  however  in  the  clear  and  manifest  degree  which  it 
will  have  in  the  life  to  come.  This,  in  my  opinion,  is 
what  St.  Paul  referred  to  when  he  said  :  '  Because  you 
are  sons,  God  hath  sent  the  Spirit  of  His  Son  into  your 
hearts,  crying  Abba,  Father.'  *  The  blessed  in  the  life 
to  come,  and  the  perfect  in  this,  thus  experience  it. 

4.  Nor  is  it  to  be  thought  impossible  that  the  soul 
should  be  capable  of  so  great  a  thing  as  that  it  should 
breathe  in  God  as  God  in  it,  in  the  way  of  participation. 
For  granting  that  God  has  bestowed  upon  it  so  great  a 
favour  as  to  unite  it  to  the  most  Holy  Trinity,  whereby 
it  becomes  like  unto  God,  and  God  by  participation, 
is  it  altogether  incredible  that  it  should  exercise  the 
faculties  of  its  understanding,  perform  its  acts  of 
knowledge  and  of  love,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately, 
should  have  it  all  done  in  the  Holy  Trinity  together  with 
It,   as  the  Holy  Trinity  Itself  ?     This,   however,   takes 

*  Gal.  iv.  6. 


294  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIX.] 

place  by  communication  and  participation,  God  Himself 
effecting  it  in  the  soul,  for  this  is  '  to  be  transformed  in 
the  Three  Persons '  in  power,  wisdom,  and  love,  and 
herein  it  is  that  the  soul  becomes  like  unto  God,  Who, 
that  it  might  come  to  this,  created  it  to  His  own  image 
and  likeness. 

5.     How  this  can  be  so  cannot  be  explained  in  any 
other  way  than  by  showing  how  the  Son  of  God  has 
raised  us  to  so  high  a  state,  and  merited  for  us   the 
'  power  to  be  made  the  sons  of   God.'  *     He  prayed  to 
the  Father,  saying  :   '  Father,   I  will  that  where  I  am, 
they  also  whom  Thou  hast  given  Me  may  be  with  Me, 
that   they  may  see   My  glory  which  Thou  hast  given 
Me,'  t     That  is,  '  that  they  may  do  by  participation  in 
Us  what  I  do  naturally,  namely,  breathe  the  Holy  Ghost.' 
He  says  also  :    '  Not  for  them  only  do  I  pray,  but  for 
them  also  who  through  their  word  shall  believe  in  Me  ; 
that  they  all  may  be  one,  as  Thou,  Father,  in  Me,  and  I 
in  Thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  Us  :    that  the 
world  may  believe  that  Thou  hast  sent  Me.     And  the 
glory  which  Thou  hast  given  Me,  I  have  given  to  them  : 
that  they  may  be  one  as  We  also  are  one.     I  in  them 
and  Thou  in  Me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one, 
and  the  world  may  know  that  Thou  hast  sent  Me,  and 
hast  loved  them  as  Thou  hast  also  loved  Me,'  J — that  is, 

*  St.   John  i.   12.  t  lb.  xvii.  24.  J  lb.  xvii.  20-23. 


[STAN.  XXXIX.]    OF    THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM    205 

in  bestowing  upon  them  that  love  which  He  bestows 
upon  the  Son,  though  not  naturally  as  upon  Him,  but 
in  the  way  I  speak  of,  in  the  union  and  transformation 
of  love. 

6.  We  are  not  to  suppose  from  this  that  our  Lord 
prayed  that  the  saints  might  become  one  in  essence 
and  nature,  as  the  Father  and  the  Son  are  ;  but  that 
they  might  become  one  in  the  union  of  love  as  the  Father 
and  the  Son  are  one  in  the  oneness  of  love.  Souls  have 
by  participation  that  very  God  which  the  Son  has  by 
nature,  and  are  therefore  really  gods  by  participation 
like  unto  God  and  of  His  society. 

j,  7.  St.  Peter  speaks  of  this  as  follows  :  '  Grace  to 
you  and  peace  be  accomplished  in  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord  ;  as  all  things  of  His 
divine  power,  which  pertain  to  life  and  godliness,  are 
given  us  by  the  knowledge  of  Him  who  hath  called  us 
by  His  own  proper  glory  and  virtue,  by  Whom  He  hath 
given  us  most  great  and  precious  promises  :  that  by 
these  you  may  be  made  partakers  of  the  divine  nature.'  * 
Thus  far  St.  Peter,  who  clearly  teaches  that  the  soul  will 
be  a  partaker  of  God  Himself,  and  will  do,  together  with 
Him,  the  work  of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity,  because  of 
the  substantial  union  between  the  soul  and  God.  And 
though  this  union  be  perfect  only  in  the  life  to  come, 

*  2  St.  Pet.  i.  2-4, 


296  A   SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIX.] 

yet  even  in  this,  in  the  state  of  perfection,  which  the 
soul  is  said  now  to  have  attained,  some  anticipation  of 
its  sweetness  is  given  it,  in  the  way  I  am  speaking  of, 
though  in  a  manner  wholly  ineffable. 

8.  O  souls  created  for  this  and  called  thereto,  what 
are  you  doing  ?  What  are  your  occupations  ?  Your 
aim  is  meanness,  and  your  enjoyments  misery.  Oh, 
wretched  blindness  of  the  children  of  Adam,  blind  to 
so  great  a  light,  and  deaf  to  so  clear  a  voice  ;  you  see 
not  that,  while  seeking  after  greatness  and  glory,  you 
are  miserable  and  contemptible,  ignorant,  and  unworthy 
of  blessings  so  great. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  second  expression  which  the 
soul  has  made  use  of  to  describe  that  which  He  gave  it. 

'  The  song  of  the  sweet  nightingale.' 

9.  Out  of  this  '  breathing  of  the  air  '  comes  the  sweet 
voice  of  the  Beloved  addressing  Himself  to  the  soul,  in 
which  the  soul  sends  forth  its  o^\Tl  sweet  song  of  joy  to 
Him.  Both  are  meant  by  the  song  of  the  nightingale. 
As  the  song  of  the  nightingale  is  heard  in  the  spring  of 
the  year,  when  the  cold,  and  rain,  and  changes  of  winter 
are  past,  filling  the  ear  with  melody,  and  the  mind  with 
joy  ;  so,  in  the  true  intercourse  and  transformation  of 
love,  which  takes  place  in  this  life,  the  bride,  now 
protected  and  delivered  from  all  trials  and  changes  of 


[STAN.  XXXIX.]    OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM     297 

the  world,  detached,  and  free  from  the  imperfections, 
sufferings,  and  darkness  both  of  mind  and  body,  becomes 
conscious  of  a  new  spring  in  Hberty,  largeness,  and  joy  of 
spirit,  in  which  she  hears  the  sweet  voice  of  the  Bride- 
groom, Who  is  her  sweet  nightingale,  renewing  and 
refreshing  the  very  substance  of  her  soul,  now  prepared 
for  the  journey  of  everlasting  hfe. 

10.  That  voice  is  sweet  to  her  ears,  and  calls  her 
sweetly,  as  it  is  written  :  '  Arise,  make  haste,  my  love, 
my  dove,  my  beautiful  one,  and  come.  For  winter  is 
now  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone.  The  flowers  have 
appeared  in  our  land,  the  time  of  pruning  is  come  :  the 
voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land.'  *  When  the 
bride  hears  the  voice  of  the  Bridegroom  in  her  inmost 
soul,  she  feels  that  her  troubles  are  over  and  her  pros- 
perity begun.  In  the  refreshing  comfort  and  sweet  sense 
of  this  voice  she,  too,  like  the  nightingale,  sends  forth 
a  new  song  of  rejoicing  unto  God,  in  unison  with  Him 
Who  now  moves  her  to  do  so. 

11.  It  is  for  this  that  the  Beloved  sings,  that  the 
bride  in  unison  with  Him  may  sing  unto  God  ;  this  is 
the  aim  and  desire  of  the  Bridegroom,  that  the  soul 
should  sing  with  the  spirit  joyously  unto  God  ;  and  this 
is  what  He  asks  of  the  bride  in  the  Canticle  :  '  Arise, 
my  love,  my  beautiful  one,  and  come  ;    my  dove  in  the 

*  Cant.  ii.  10-12. 


298  A    SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIX.] 

clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  hollow  places  of  the  wall,  show 
me  thy  face,  let  thy  voice  sound  in  my  ears.'  * 

12.  The  ears  of  God  signify  the  desire  He  hath  that 
the  soul  should  sing  in  perfect  joy.  And  that  this  song 
may  be  perfect,  the  Bridegroom  bids  the  soul  to  send 
it  forth,  and  to  let  it  sound  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  that 
is,  in  the  transformation  which  is  the  fruit  of  the 
mysteries  of  Christ,  of  which  I  spoke  just  now.f  ,  And 
because  in  this  union  of  the  soul  with  God,  the  soul 
sings  unto  Him  together  with  Him,  in  the  way  I  spoke 
of  when  I  was  speaking  of  love, J  the  song  of  praise  is 
most  perfect  and  pleasing  unto  God  ;  for  the  acts  of  the 
soul,  in  the  state  of  perfection,  are  most  perfect  ;  and 
thus  the  song  of  its  rejoicing  is  sweet  unto  God  as  well 
as  to  itself. 

13.  '  Thy  voice  is  sweet,'  §  saith  the  Bridegroom, '  not 
only  to  thee,  but  also  to  Me,  for  as  we  are  one,  thy  voice 
is  also  in  unison  and  one  with  Mine.'  This  is  the  canticle 
which  the  soul  sings  in  the  transformation  which  takes 
place  in  this  life,  about  which  no  exaggeration  is  possible. 
But  as  this  song  is  not  so  perfect  as  the  new  song  in 
the  life  of  glory,  the  soul,  having  a  foretaste  of  that  by 
what  it  feels  on  earth,  shadows  forth  by  the  grandeur 
of  this  the  magnificence  of  that  in  glory,  which  is  beyond 

*  Cant.  ii.   13,   14.  +  Stanza  xxxviii.  §  6. 

t  Stanza  xxxvii.  §  5.  §  Cant.  ii.  14. 


[STAN.  XXXIX.]    OF   THE    SOUL    AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM     299 

all  comparison  nobler,  and  calls  it  to  mind  and  says 
that  what  its  portion  there  will  be  is  the  song  of  the 
sweet  nightingale. 

'  The  grove  and  its  beauty.' 

14.  This  is  the  third  thing  which  the  Bridegroom  is 
to  give  the  soul.  The  grove,  because  it  contains  many 
plants  and  animals,  signifies  God  as  the  Creator  and 
Giver  of  life  to  all  creatures,  which  have  their  being  and 
origin  from  Him,  reveal  Him  and  make  Him  known  as 
the  Creator.  The  beauty  of  the  grove,  which  the  soul 
prays  for,  is  not  only  the  grace,  wisdom,  and  lovehness 
which  flow  from  God  over  all  created  things,  whether  in 
heaven  or  on  earth,  but  also  the  beauty  of  the  mutual 
harmony  and  wise  arrangement  of  the  inferior  creation, 
and  the  higher  also,  and  of  the  mutual  relations  of  both. 
The  knowledge  of  this  gives  the  soul  great  joy  and  dehght. 
The  fourth  request  is  : 

'  In  the  serene  night.' 

15.  That  is,  contemplation,  in  which  the  soul  desires 
to  behold  the  grove.  It  is  called  night,  because  con- 
templation is  dim  ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  it  is 
also  called  mystical  theology — that  is,  the  secret  or  hidden 
wisdom  of  God,  where,  without  the  sound  of  words,  or 
the  intervention  of  any  bodily  or  spiritual  sense,  as 
it  were  in  silence  and  in  repose,  in  the  darkness  of  sense 


300  A  SPIRITUAL    CANTICLE        [STAN.  XXXIX.] 

and  nature,  God  teaches  the  soul — and  the  soul  knows 
not  how — in  a  most  secret  and  hidden  way. 

i6.  Some  spiritual  writers  call  this  '  understanding 
without  understanding,'  because  it  does  not  take  place 
in  what  philosophers  call  the  active  understanding, 
which  is  conversant  with  the  forms,  fancies,  and  appre- 
hensions of  the  physical  faculties,  but  in  the  understanding 
as  it  is  possible  and  passive,  which  without  receiving 
such  forms,  receives  passively  only  the  substantial 
knowledge  of  them  free  from  all  imagery.  This  occurs 
without  effort  or  exertion  on  its  part,  and  for  this  reason 
contemplation  is  called  n'ght,  in  which  the  soul  through 
the  channel  of  its  transformation  learns  in  this  life 
that  it  already  possesses,  in  a  supreme  degree,  this 
divine  grove,  together  with  its  beauty. 

17.  Still,  however  clear  may  be  its  knowledge,  it 
is  dark  night  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  blessed,  for 
which  the  soul  prays.  Hence,  while  it  prays  for  the 
clear  contemplation,  that  is,  the  fruition  of  the  grove, 
and  its  beauty  with  the  other  objects  here  enumerated, 
it  says,  let  it  be  in  the  night  now  serene  ;  that  is,  in 
the  clear  beatific  contemplation  :  let  the  night  of  dim 
contemplation  cease  here  below,  and  change  into  the 
clear  contemplation  of  the  serene  vision  of  God  above. 
Thus  the  serene  night  is  the  clear  and  unclouded  con- 
templation of  the  face  of  God.     It  was  to  this  night  of 


[STAN.  XXXIX.]     OF   THE   SOUL  AND   ITS   BRIDEGROOM    3OI 

contemplation  that  David  referred  when  he  said,  '  Night 
shall  be  my  light  in  my  pleasures  '  ;  *  that  is,  when  I 
shall  have  my  delight  in  the  essential  vision  of  God, 
the  night  of  contemplation  will  have  dawned  in  the 
day  and  light  of  my  understanding. 

'  With  the  flame  that  consumes,  and  gives  no  pain.' 

18.  This  flame  is  the  love  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  '  Con- 
sumes '  means  absolute  perfection.  Therefore,  when 
the  soul  says  that  the  Beloved  will  give  it  all  that  is 
mentioned  in  this  stanza,  and  that  they  will  be  its 
possession  in  love  absolute  and  perfect,  all  of  them 
and  itself  with  them  in  perfect  love,  and  that  without 
pain,  its  purpose  is  to  show  forth  the  utter  perfection  of 
love.  Love,  to  be  perfect,  must  have  these  two  pro- 
perties :  it  must  consume  and  transform  the  soul  in 
God  ;  the  burning  and  transformation  wrought  in  the 
soul  by  the  flame  must  give  no  pain.  But  this  can  be 
only  in  the  state  of  the  blessed,  where  the  flame  is  sweet 
love,  for  in  this  transformation  of  the  soul  therein  there  is 
a  blessed  agreement  and  contentment  on  both  sides,  and 
no  change  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  gives  pain,  as  before, 
when  the  soul  had  attained  to  the  state  of  perfect  love. 

19.  But  the  soul  having  attained  to  this  state  abides 
in  its  love  of  God,  a  love  so  like  His  and  so  sweet,  God 

*  Ps.  cxxxviii.   II. 


302  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE       [STAN.  XXXIX. J 

being,  as  Moses  saith,*  a  consuming  fire — '  the  Lord  thy 
God  is  a  consuming  fire  '■ — that  it  perfects  and  renews  it. 
But  this  transformation  is  not  hke  that  which  is  wrought 
in  this  hfe,  wliich  though  most  perfect  and  in  love  con- 
summate was  still  in  some  measure  consuming  the  soul 
and  wearing  it  away.  It  was  like  fire  in  burning  coals, 
for  though  the  coals  may  be  transformed  into  fire,  and 
made  like  it,  and  ceased  from  seething,  and  smoke  no 
longer  arises  from  them  as  before  they  were  wholly  trans- 
formed into  fire,  still,  though  they  have  become  perfect 
fire,  the  fire  consumes  them  and  reduces  them  to  ashes. 
20.  vSo  is  it  with  the  soul  which  in  this  life  is  trans- 
formed by  perfect  love  :  for  though  it  be  wholly  con- 
formed, yet  it  still  suffers,  in  some  measure,  both  pain 
and  loss.  Pain,  on  account  of  the  beatific  transformation 
which  is  still  wanting  ;  loss,  through  the  weakness  and 
corruption  of  the  flesh  coming  in  contact  with  love  so 
strong  and  so  deep  :  for  everything  that  is  grand  hurts 
and  pains  our  natural  infirmity,  as  it  is  written,  *  The 
corruptible  body  is  a  load  upon  the  soul.'f  But  in  the 
life  of  bliss  there  will  be  neither  loss  nor  pain,  though 
the  sense  of  the  soul  will  be  most  acute,  and  its  love 
without  measure,  for  God  will  give  power  to  the  former 
and  strength  to  the  latter,  perfecting  the  understanding 
in  His  wisdom  and  the  will  in  His  love. 

*  Deut.  iv.  24.  t  Wisd.  ix.   15. 


[STAN,  XL.]       OF   THE    SOUL   AND    ITS    BRIDEGROOM  303 

21,  As,  in  the  foregoing  stanzas,  and  in  the  one 
which  follows,  the  bride  prays  for  the  boundless  know- 
ledge of  God,  for  which  she  requires  the  strongest  and 
the  deepest  love  that  she  may  love  Him  in  proportion 
to  the  grandeur  of  His  communications,  she  prays  now 
that  all  these  things  may  be  bestowed  upon  her  in  love 
consummated,  perfect,  and  strong. 


STANZA    XL 

None  saw  it  ; 

Neither  did  Amiiiadab  appear. 
The  siege  was  intermitted, 
And  the  cavalry  dismounted 
At  the  sight  of  the  waters. 

The  bride  perceiving  that  the  desire  of  her  will  is  now 
detached  from  all  things,  cleaving  unto  God  with  most 
fervent  love  ;  that  the  sensual  part  of  the  soul,  with 
all  its  powers,  faculties,  and  desires,  is  now  conformed 
to  the  spirit ;  that  all  rebellion  is  quelled  for  ever  ;  that 
Satan  is  overcome  and  driven  far  away  in  the  varied 
contest  of  the  spiritual  struggle  ;  that  her  soul  is  united 
and  transformed  in  the  rich  abundance  of  the  heavenly 
gifts  ;  and  that  she  herself  is  now  prepared,  strong 
and  apparelled,  '  leaning  upon  her  Beloved,'  to  go  up 
'  by  the  desert  '*  of  death  ;    full  of  joy  to  the  glorious 

*  Cant.  iii.  6  ;    viii.  5. 


304  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XL.] 

throne  of  her  espousals, — she  is  onging  for  the  end,  and 
puts  before  the  eyes  of  her  Bridegroom,  in  order  to 
influence  Him  the  more,  all  that  is  mentioned  in  the 
present  stanza,  these  five  considerations  : 

2.  The  first  is  that  the  soul  is  detached  from  all 
things  and  a  stranger  to  them.  The  second  is  that  the 
devil  is  overcome  and  put  to  flight.  The  third  is  that 
the  passions  are  subdued,  and  the  natural  desires  mortified. 
The  fourth  and  the  fifth  are  that  the  sensual  and  lower 
nature  of  the  soul  is  changed  and  purified,  and  so  con- 
formed to  the  spiritual,  as  not  only  not  to  hinder  spiritual 
blessings,  but  is,  on  the  contrary,  prepared  for  them, 
for  it  is  even  a  partaker  already,  according  to  its  capacity, 
of  those  which  have  been  bestowed  upon  it. 

'  None  saw  it.' 

3.  That  is,  my  soul  is  so  detached,  so  denuded,  so 
lonely,  so  estranged  from  all  created  things,  in  heaven 
and  earth  ;  it  has  become  so  recollected  in  Thee,  that 
nothing  whatever  can  come  within  sight  of  that  most 
intimate  joy  which  I  have  in  Thee.  That  is,  there  is 
nothing  whatever  that  can  cause  me  pleasure  with  its 
sweetness,  or  disgust  with  its  vileness  ;  for  my  soul  is 
so  far  removed  from  all  such  things,  absorbed  in  such 
profound  delight  in  Thee,  that  nothing  can  behold  me». 
This  is  not  all,  for  : 


[STAN.  XL.]      OF  THE   SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  305 

'  Neither  did  Aminadab  appear.' 

4.  Aminadab,  in  the  Holy  Writings,  signifies  the 
devil ;  that  is  the  enemy  of  the  soul,  in  a  spiritual  sense, 
who  is  ever  fighting  against  it,  and  disturbing  it  with 
his  innumerable  artillery,  that  it  may  not  enter  into  the 
fortress  and  secret  place  of  interior  recollection  with  the 
Bridegroom.  There,  the  soul  is  so  protected,  so  strong, 
so  triumphant  in  virtue  which  it  then  practises,  so 
defended  by  God's  right  hand,  that  the  devil  not  only 
dares  not  approach  it,  but  runs  away  from  it  in  great 
fear,  and  does  not  venture  to  appear.  The  practice  of 
virtue,  and  the  state  of  perfection  to  which  the  soul 
has  come,  is  a  victory  over  Satan,  and  causes  him  such 
terror  that  he  cannot  present  himself  before  it.  Thus 
Aminadab  appeared  not  with  any  right  to  keep  the  soul 
away  from  the  object  of  its  desire. 

'  The  siege  was  intermitted.' 

5.  By  the  siege  is  meant  the  passions  and  desires, 
which,  when  not  overcome  and  mortified,  surround  the 
soul  and  fight  against  it  on  all  sides.  Hence  the  term 
'  siege'  is  applied  to  them.  This  siege  is  '  intermitted ' — 
that  is,  the  passions  are  subject  to  reason,  and  the  desires 
mortified.  Under  these  circumstances  the  soul  entreats 
the  Beloved  to  communicate  to  it  those  graces  for  which 
it  has  prayed,  for  now  the  siege  is  no  hindrance.     Until 

20 


306  A   SPIRITUAL   CANTICLE  [STAN.  XL.] 

the  four  passions  of  the  soul  are  ordered  in  reason 
according  to  God,  and  until  the  desires  are  mortified 
and  purified,  the  soul  is  incapable  of  seeing  God. 

'  The  cavalry  dismounted  at  the  sight  of  the  waters.' 

6.  The  waters  are  the  spiritual  joys  and  blessings 
which  the  soul  now  enjoys  interiorly  with  God.  The 
cavalry  is  the  bodily  senses  of  the  sensual  part,  interior 
as  well  as  exterior,  for  they  carry  with  them  the  phantasms 
and  figures  of  their  objects.  They  dismount  now  at  the 
sight  of  the  waters,  because  the  sensual  and  lower  part 
of  the  soul  in  the  state  of  spiritual  marriage  is  purified, 
and  in  a  certain  way  spiritualised,  so  that  the  soul  with 
its  powers  of  sense  and  natural  forces  becomes  so  re- 
collected as  to  participate  and  rejoice,  in  their  way,  in 
the  spiritual  grandeurs  which  God  communicates  to  it 
in  the  spirit  within.  To  this  did  the  Psalmist  refer  when 
he  said,  '  My  heart  and  my  flesh  have  rejoiced  in  the 
living  God.'* 

7.  It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  cavalry  did  not 
dismount  to  taste  of  the  waters,  but  only  at  the  sight 
of  them,  because  the  sensual  part  of  the  soul,  with  its 
powers,  is  incapable  of  tasting  substantially  and  properly 
the  spiritual  blessings,  not  merely  in  this  life,  but  also 
in  the  life  to  come.     Still,  because  of  a  certain  over- 

*  Ps.  IxxKui.    3, 


[STAN.  XL.]      OF  THE   SOUL  AND    ITS   BRIDEGROOM  307 

flowing  of  the  spirit,  they  are  sensibly  refreshed  and 
dehghted,  and  this  dehght  attracts  them— that  is,  the 
senses  with  their  bodily  powers — towards  that  interior 
recollection  where  the  soul  is  drinking  the  waters  of  the 
spiritual  benedictions.  This  condition  of  the  senses  is 
rather  a  dismounting  at  the  sight  of  the  waters  than 
a  dismounting  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  or  tasting  them. 
The  soul  says  of  them  that  they  dismounted,  not  that 
they  went,  or  did  anything  else,  and  the  meaning  is 
that  in  the  communication  of  the  sensual  with  the  spiritual 
part  of  the  soul,  when  the  spiritual  waters  become  its 
drink,  the  natural  operations  subside  and  merge  into 
spiritual  recollection. 

8.  All  these  perfections  and  dispositions  of  the  soul 
the  bride  sets  forth  before  her  Beloved,  the  Son  of  God, 
longing  at  the  same  time  to  be  translated  by  Him  out 
of  the  spiritual  marriage,  to  which  God  has  been  pleased 
to  advance  her  in  the  Church  militant,  to  the  glorious 
marriage  of  the  Church  triumphant.  Whereunto  may 
He  bring  of  His  mercy  all  those  who  call  upon  the  most 
sweet  name  of  Jesus,  the  Bridegroom  of  faithful  souls, 
to  Whom  be  all  honour  and  glory,  together  with  the 
Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 


IN   S/ECULA   S^CULORUM. 


INDEX   TO   PASSAGES  FROM  HOLY 
SCRIPTURE 


1.  31  : 
ii.  24 
vi.  21 


Genesis 
They  were  very  good,  52 


Two  in  one  flesh,  172 
All  food  that  may  be  eaten, 
107 
viii.  9  :  Where  her  foot  might  rest, 

104 
XXX.   I  :  Give  me  children,  59 

Exodus 
iii.  7  :  The  affliction  of  My  people, 

35 
xxxiii.   13  :   I  know  thee  by  name, 
79.  254 
20  :  Shall  not  see   Me  and 
live,   79,  279 

22  :  In  a  hole  of  the  rock,  22 

23  :  Not  see  My  face,  22,  152 
xxxiv.  30  :  The  face  of  Moses,  141 

Deuteronomium 

iv.  24  :  A  consuming  fire,  302 
XXX.  20  :  He  is  thy  life,  36 
xxxi.  21:  I  know  their  thoughts,  34 
xxxii.  33  :  Venom  of  asps,  37 

Judges 

xiii.  22  :  We  shall  die,  81 
xvi.   15  :  Thy  mind  is  not  with  me, 
25 

I  Kings 
xviii.  I  ;  Soul  knit  with   the  soul, 
239 


2  Kings 
xiv.   14  :  All  die,  14 

3  Kings 

xix.   II  :  Whisper  of  a  gentle  wind, 
116 

I  Paralipomenon 
xi.   18  :  Waters  of  Bethlehem,  93 

Tobias 


V.  12  : 

And  see  not  the  light,  74 

xii.  12 

I  offered  thy  prayer,  34 

xiv.  4  : 

The  rest  of  his  life  in  joy. 

267 

Esther 

vi.   II  :  This  honour  is  he  worthy 
of,  256 

Job 

iii.  24  :  Overflowing  waters,  93 
iv.  2  :  Withhold    the    words    con- 
ceived, 291 
12  :  A  secret  word,  118 
vi.  8  :  Who  will  grant,  59,  274 
vii.  2  :  Longeth  for  the  shade,  69 
ix.   II  :  I  shall  not  see  Him,  17 
xiv.  5  :  The  days  of  man  are  short, 

xli.  6  :  Body  like  the  molten  shields, 

237 
24  :  Made  to  fear  no  man,  45 
xlii.  5  :  My  eye  seeth  Thee,  117 


309 


310 


INDEX   TO   PASSAGES   FROM   HOLY   SCRIPTURE 


Psalms 

ix,  lo  :  A  helper  in  due  time,  35 
XV.  4  :  Mindful  of  their  names,  251 
xvi.   15  :  When     thy     glory     shall 

appear,  26 
xvii.   12,  13  :  The    clouds    passed, 

24.  94 
xviii.  10  :  Sweeter  than  honey,  273 
XX.  4  :  Blessings  of  sweetness,  290 
xxx.  20  :  Multitude  of  Thy  sweet- 
ness, 290 
xxxiii.  8  :  The  angel  of  the  Lord, 
129 
20  :  Tribulations  of  the  just, 

44 
22  :  The  death  of  the  wicked, 
84 
xxxiv.  3  :  I  am  thy  salvation,  36 
XXXV.  9  :  Torrent  of  thy  pleasure, 

36,  199,  290 
xxxvii.   II  :  The     light     of     mine 

eyes,   74 
xxxviii.  4  :  My   heart   waxed   hot, 

161,  195 
xli.  I  :  As  the  hart  panteth,  93 
xliv.   10  :  In  vestments  of  gold,  234 
xlix.   II  :  The  beauty  of  the  field, 

182 
liii.  5  :  The  mighty  have  thought, 

45 
Iviii.   10  :  I  will  keep  my  strength, 

221 
Ixi.  2  :  From  Him  is  my  salvation, 

215 
II  :  If  riches  abound,  43 
Ixii.  2  :  My  soul  hath  thirsted,  131 
Ixvii.   14  :  Laid  over  with  silver,  80 
16  :  The   mountain   of   God, 

273 
34  :  The  voice  of  power,  112 
Ixviii.  2  :  Save  me,  O  God,  161 
Ixxii.  21  :  My  heart  is  inflamed,  28, 

209 
Ixxxiii.  3  :  My  soul  longeth,  78,  306 
4  :  The  turtle  a  nest,  264 


xcvi.  2  :  Clouds  and  darkness,  94 
ci.  8  :  The  lonely  sparrow,  122 
cxv.  15  :  Death  of  His  saints,  84 
cxviii.  32  :  The  way  of  Thy  com- 
mandments,   192 
131:  I  opened  my  mouth, 161 
cxxxviii.   II  :  Night    shall    be    my 
light,    301 
12  :  The  darkness  as  the 
light,  94 
cxliv.  16  :  Thou  openest  Thy  hand, 
53 

Proverbs 

ii.  4  :  Seek  Him  as  treasure,  75 
iv.  23  :   Keep  thy  heart,  22 
viii.  31  :  My     delights     with     the 
children  of  men,  143,183 
XV.  15  :  A  secure  mind,  167 
xxx.   2  :   The  wisdom  of  men,  206 

ECCLESIASTES 

ix.   I  :  Worthy  of  love  or  hatred,  17 

CANTICLE    OF    CANTICLES 

i.  3  :  Draw  me,  192,  234 
4  :  I  am  black,  255 
6  :  Where  thou  liest  in  the  mid- 
day, 17 

10  :  Chains  of  gold,  89 

1 1  :  My  spikenard  sent  forth  its 

odour,  142,  235 
15  :  Our  bed  is  of  flowers,  183 
ii.   I  :  The  flower  of  the  field,  181, 
239 

3  :   I  sat  down  under  his  shadow, 

261 

4  :  The  cellar  of  wine,  203 

5  :  Stay  me  with  flowers,  238 

6  :  His  left  hand  under  my  head, 

199 
9  :  My  beloved  is  like  to  a  roe,  27 

10  :  Arise,  my  dove,  297 

1 1  :  Winter  is  now  passed,  1 77 
13  :  Arise,  my  dove,  279,  298 


INDEX   TO    PASSAGES    FROM    HOLY   SCRIPTURE 


311 


14  :  Thy  voice  is  sweet,  113,  298 

15  :  Catch  us  the  foxes,  133 
iii.   I  :  I  will  arise,  40 

2  :  Whom  my  soul  loveth,  31 

4  :  The  watchman,  40 

5  :  I   adjure  you,  169,  223 

6  :  By  the  desert,  303 

7  :  Three  score  valiants,  189 

9  :  A    litter    of     the    wood    of 
Libanus,  188 

11  :  Ye  daughters  of  Sion,  170 
iv.   I  :  Thou  art  fair,  257,  259 

4  :  The  tower  of  David,  190 
6  :  The  mountain  of  myrrh,  272 
9  :  Thou     hast     wounded     my 
heart,  58,  244 

12  :  A  garden  enclosed,   169 
16  :  Arise,  north  wind,  142 

V.   I  :  O  my  sister,  my  bride,  174 
4  :  Put   his    hand    through    the 

opening,   193 
6  :  I  sought  him,  31,  72,  202 
7:  They  wounded  me,  31,  72 
8  :  I  languish  with  love,  58 
14  :  Belly  of  ivory,  281 
vi.  2  :   Feedeth    among    the    lilies, 
144,   230 

3  :  Terrible  as  an  army,  238,  257 

4  :  Turn  them  away,  118 

9  :  Who  is  she  that  cometh,  166 
II  :  I  knew  not,  132,  207 
vii.   I  :  She  steps  in  shoes,  238 
ID  :  I  to  my  beloved,  212 
13  :  The  new  and  the  old,  222 
viii.   i:  Find  thee  without,  176,  185 
2  :  Cup  of  spiced  wine,  202,  282 

5  :  Under  the  apple  tree,  179, 

303 

6  :  As  a  seal  upon  thy  heart, 

92,  93 
8  :  Our  sister  is  little,  155 

W^ISDOM 

i,  7  :  Knowledge  of  the  voice,  125 
vi.  13  :  Wisdom  is  clear,  41 
viii.  I  :  End  unto  end,  i 


ix.   15  :  The  corruptible  body,  150, 
302 

ECCLESIASTICUS 

V.  5  :  Sin  forgiven,  250 

ix.   14  :  Forsake  not  an  old  friend, 


15 


xli 


xliii.   3 


xlv.  3 
15 


A  new  friend,   197 
O  death,  how  bitter,  84 
3  :  To  the  needy  man,  83 

ISAIAS 

ii.  2  :  The  mountain  of  the  house, 
271 
3  :  Let  us  go  up  to  the  mountain, 
271 
xi.  3  :  The  spirit  of  fear,  201 
xxiv.   16  :  My  secret  to  myself,  119 
xxvi.  20  :   Enter  into  thy  chambers, 
22 
Egypt  for  thy  atonement, 

256 
Honourable    in    my    eyes, 

254 
Mysteries  of  secret,  22 
Thou  art  a  hidden  God,  16 
Iviii.   10  :   Thy  light  shall  arise,  267 
Ixiv.  4  :  Eye  hath  not  seen,  288 
Ixv.  24  :  Before  they  call,  75 
Ixvi.  12  :  A  river  of  peace,  iii,  212 

Jeremias 
ii.   14  :   Is  Israel  a  bondman,  145 

Lamentations 
iii.   19  :  The    wormwood    and    the 
gall,  36 

Baruch 
iii.   II  :  Defiled  with  the  dead,  145 

EzECHIEL 

i.  24  :  Of  many  waters,  113 
xvi.  5  :  Thou  wert  cast  out,  181 
xviii.   22  :   I  will  not  remember,  250 

Daniel 
X.   16  :  My  joints  are  loosed,  120 


312 


INDEX   TO   PASSAGES   FROM   HOLY   SCRIPTURE 


OSEE 

ii.  14  :  I  will  speak  to  her  heart,  262 
20  :  I  will  espouse  thee,  87 

Nahum 
i,  9  :  A  double  affliction,  250 

SOPHONIAS 

i.  12  :  Search  Jerusalem,  14 

Zacharias 
ii.  8  :  He  that  shall  touch  you,  75 

St.  Matthew 

V.  26  :  Repay  the  last  farthing,  14 
vi.  6  :  Pray  in  secret,  21 

24  :  Serve  two  masters,  228 
vii.  14  :  How  narrow  is  the  gate,  14 
X.  33  :  Deny  Me  before  men,  227 
xiii.   12  :  He  that  hath  to  him  shall 

be  given,  256 
44  :  Treasure     hidden     in     a 

field,  21,  216 
xvi.  25  :  Lose  his  life  for  My  sake, 

229 
XX.  6  :  The  eleventh  hour,  14 
XXV.  28  :  Take  away  the  talent,  256 

St.  Luke 

i.   13  :  Thy  prayer  is  heard,  35 
52  :  Exalted  the  humble,  in 
ii.  25  :  Just  man  full  of  fear,  201 
X.  42  :  One  thing  necessary,  222 
xi.  9  :  Seek  and  you  shall  find,  39 
xii.  37  :  He  will  gird  himself,  212 
XV.  5  :  The  sheep  that  was  lost,  169 

9  :  Rejoice  with  me,  169 
xvii.  21  :  The     kingdom     of     God 

within,  20 
xxii.  8  :  Sent  His  apostles,  141 

St.  John 

i.  3  :  What  was  made  in  Him  was 
life,  64,  108 
12  :  Made  the  sons  of  God,  294 


16  :  Grace  for  grace,  247,  253 
18  :  Bosom  of  the  Father,  16 
ii.  3  :  They  have  no  wine,  37 
iv.  14  :  A  well  of  water,  88,  164 
vii.  39  :  Who  believed  in  Him,  88 
xi.  3  :  Whom  Thou  lovest  is  sick,38 
xii.  29  :  Angel  hath  spoken,  112 

32  :  If  I  be  lifted  up,  52 
XV.  7  :  If  you  abide  in  Me,  25 

15  :  I  have  called  you  friends, 
217 
xvii.  3  :  This  is  eternal  life,  276 
10  :  All  My  things  are  Thine, 

270 
20  :  Not  for  them  only   do   I 

pray,  294 
24  :  May  see  My  glory,  294 
XX.   15  :  Where  thou  hast  laid  Him, 
71 

Acts 

ii.  2  :  As  of  a  mighty  wind,  112 
xvii.  28  :  In  Him  we  live,  64 

Romans 

i.  20  :  His  invisible  things.  47 
viii.   13  :  Deeds  of  the  flesh,  46 
14  :  Led  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 

265 
23  :  Waiting  for  the  adoption, 

27 
26  :  With   groanings   unutter- 
able,   I 
xi.   33:   Incomprehensible  His  judg- 
ments,   273 

I  Corinthians 

ii.  9  :  Eye  hath  not  seen,  288 

14  :  The  deep  things  of  God,  206 
iii.  19  :  Wisdom  of  this  world,  205 
vi.   17  :  He   who   is  joined   to   the 

Lord,    1 73 
X.  4  :  The  rock  is  Christ,  277 
xiii.  2  :  Without    charity    nothing 
worth,  103 
4  :  Charity  is  patient,  104 


INDEX   TO   PASSAGES   FROM   HOLY   SCRIPTURE 


313 


6  :  Rejoiceth  with  the   truth, 

104 
10  :  That  which  is  perfect,  22, 

90 
12:1    shall    know    as    I    am 

known,  284 

2  Corinthians 

V.  4  :  Not  spoiled  but  overclothed, 

81 
vi.   16  :  Temple  of  the  living  God, 

20 
xii.  3  :  In  the  body  or  out  of  the 
body,  99 
4  :  Secret  words,  116,  150,  153 
9  :  Virtue  made  perfect,  232 

Galatians 

ii.  20  :  I  live  now,  91,  175 

iv.  6  :  The  spirit  of  His  Son,  293 

V.   17  :  The  flesh  lusteth,  45,  131 

Ephesians 

ii.  15  :  The  law  of  commandments, 

178 
iii.  17  :  Rooted  in  charity,  275 
vi.  II  :  The  armour  of  God,  45 

Philippians 
i.  21  :  To  die  is  gain,  229 

23  :  To  be  with  Christ,  81 
iv.  7  :  The  peace  of  God,   167 

COLOSSIANS 

ii.  3  :  The  treasures  of  wisdom,  36, 

278 


iii.   14  :  The    bond    of    perfection  , 
103,  216,  236,  239 

Hebrews 
i.  3  :  Brightness  of  His  glory,   51, 
85 

St.  James 
i.   17  :  Every  best  gift,  234 

1  St.  Peter 

iv.   18  :  Shall  scarcely  be  saved,  14 

2  St.  Peter 

i.  2  :  Partakers      of      the      divine 
nature,  295 

I  St.  John 

iv.  10  :  He  first  loved  us,  243 
18  :  Perfect  charity,  82,  188 

Apocalypse 

ii.  7  :  To  him  that  overcometh,  288 
10  :  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death, 

288 
17  :  The  hidden  manna,  289 
26  :  And  keep  My  works,  289 
iii.  5  :  Vested   in   white   garments, 
289 
12  :  My  new  name,  289 

20  :  I  stand  at  the  gate,  126 

21  :  To  sit  on  My  throne,  289 
X.  9  :  Take  the  book,  37 

xiv.  2  :  The  voice  of  harpers,  113, 

125 
xxi.  23  :  The  Lamb  is  the  lamp,  74 
xxii.   i:  A  river  of  living  water,  199 


INDEX 


Absence,  pain  of,  32,  53 

Adam,  fall  of,  178 

Adoption,  270 

Altruism,  190 

Aminadab,  132,  305 

Angels,  service  of,  59 

Aridity,      remedy     against,      137  ; 

good   works   performed   in    time 

of,  232 
Ark,  the,  104,  259 
Attraction,  the  divine,  192 

Balsam,   the  divine,   192 

Beauty,  the  divine,  271 

Bed  of  the  soul,  181 

Beginners,  likened  to  new  wine,  196 

Betrothal,  the  spiritual,  105,  144  ; 
time  of,  171  ;    effects  of,  213 

Breathing,  the  divine,  292 

Bridegroom,  the,  among  the  flowers, 
143  ;  captivity  of,  242  ;  solitude 
of,  265  ;    beauty  of,  269 

Charity,  effects  of,  104 ;  purple 
robe  of,  187  ;  bond  of  perfection, 
236 

Confirmation  in  grace,   172 

Contemplation,  effects  of,  loi  ; 
not  granted  to  all  spiritual  per- 
sons, 101  ;  mystical  theology,  213 ; 
why  called  night,  299 

Contempt,  252 

Courage,  true,  rare,  227 


Creation,  meditation  on,  47  ;  the 
work  of  God  only,  48  ;  testimony 
of,  50 ;  beauty  of,  52  ;  a 
revelation,  62  ;  a  manifestation 
of  God,  124 

Cross,  the,  betrothal  of,  179 

Dalila,  treachery  of,  25 

David  and  Jonathan,  239 

Death,   82  ;    why  the  soul  desires, 

275 
Deification,   204 
Detachment,     perfect,     135,      176, 

220,  265,  304 
Dionysius,  St.,   117 
Distractions,   157 
Dove,  the,  258 

Ecstasies,  source  of,  96  ;  sufferings 
of  the  soul  in,  97,  118  ;  cessation 
of,  99 

Elias,  St.,  116 

Eternity,  day  of,  287 

Faith,  sole  means  of  union  with 
God,  86  ;    crystal  spring,  87 

Flight  of  the  soul,   102 

Foxes,  the  spiritual,  130  ;  opera- 
tions of,  131 

Francis,  St.,  saying  of,  108 

Garden,  the,  of  the  Beloved,  139, 

173 
Garlands,  the,  233 


315 


3i6 


INDEX 


Glory,  essential,  286 

God  hidden,  16  ;  visits  to  the 
soul,  28 ;  how  to  be  sought, 
40,  42  ;  greatest  works  of,  58  ; 
light  of  the  soul,  74  ;  the  guide 
of  the  perfect  soul,  261  ;  judg- 
ments of,  277 

Groanings  of  the  soul,  26,  32 

Heart,  the,  satisfaction  of,  262 
Hope,  when  painless,   163 

Imperfections  of  the  advanced,  210 
Incarnation,  the,  52 
Inebriation,   the  divine,   194 

Judgments  of  God,  277 

Knowledge  and  love,  271  ;  of  the 
just  in  heaven,  273  ;    the  divine, 

273 
Knowledge,       supernatural,      271  ; 
worldly,  274 

Life,  active  and  contemplative, 
41  ;    natural  and  spiritual,  64 

Limbus,  82 

Look,  the  divine,  242,  256 

Love,  wounds  of,  27  ;  sufferings 
of,  35  ;  tests  of  love  of  God, 
68 ;  love  the  reward  of,  69, 
104  ;  anxieties  of,  72  ;  malady 
of,  83  ;  causes  equality,  185, 
217;  visit  of,  191  ;  solitary, 
224  ;  perfect,  286,  301  ;  property 
of,  286,  301 

Manue,   81 

Marriage,    the    spiritual,    92,    154, 

170,  201,  266 
Mary  Magdalene,  St.,    71,   224 
Merit,  2 48 
Mysteries  of  God,  277 

Neck,  the,  of  the  bride,  175 
Night,  difficulties  of,  43 


Nightingale,  song  of  the,  296 

Noe,   104,  106 

Nymphs,  the,  of  Judea,  146 

Paradise,  flowers  of,  49 
Passions,  the  effects  of,  210 
Paul,  St.,  vision  of,  150 
Perfection,  form  and  substance  of, 

216 
Pomegranates,  280  ;    wine  of,  281 
Prayer,  25,  37 
Preachers,  popular,  224 
Predestination,  282 
Presence  of  God  in  the  soul,  75 
Proficients,  liable  to  ecstasies,  99 

Rapture,  96 

Satan,  power  of,  45,  129  ;  afraid  of 
perfect  soul,  184  ;   overcome,  303' 

Sin  forgiven,  250 

Solitude,  262 

Soul,  longings  of,  15  ;  wounds  of, 
29  ;  presence  of  God  in,  77  ; 
health  of,  84  ;    greatest  trial  of. 

136 
Sparrow,  the  lonely,  122 
Supper,  the  spiritual,   126 
Sweetness,  spiritual,  effects  of,  191 

Teresa,  St.,  writings  of,  loo^ 
Terrors  of  the  night,  161,  166 
Theology,  mystic,  213,  299  ;  scolas- 

tic,  4 
Thirst,  the  living,  18,  92 
Torrents,   no;    of  delight,   199 
Touch,  the  divine,  28,  114,  193 
Transformation,     effects    of,     202, 

206,  283,  302 
Trinity,  292 
Truths     of     the     faith,     90 ;      the 

beatific,  291 

Understanding  without  understand- 
ing, 300 


INDEX 


317 


Union,  divine,  the  highest  state  in 
this  hfe,  23,  284  ;  when  perfect, 
286;  actual  and  habitual,  135,  204 

Virtues    acquired    in    youth,    232  ; 

unity  of,  240 
Visions,  two,  fatal  to  man,  80 
Voice,  interior,  11 1 


Waters,  the  divine,  i 

Wine,  196 

Wisdom,    the   divine,    4  ;     of   God 

and  the  world,  206 
World,  the  wisdom  of,  226 
Wounds,  of  the  soul,   remedy  for, 

30 ;     pain    of,    55  ;     effects    of, 

65,  66 


Printed  by  HascH,  Watsott  &■  Viney,  Ld.,  London  and  Aylesbury. 


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Pnncelon  Theological  Seminary-Speef  Library 


1    1012  01004  3646 


